


The Secret Of Fjord Stone

by Mockingbirdblues



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, First Kiss, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Selkie AU, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Tenderness, canon amounts of Fjord being uncomfortable with Avantika's...entire thing, dubiously accurate sailing knowledge, existential conversations while stargazing, it's about the Mutual Devotion, mlm author, neither of them know how to flirt but it's okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24831343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mockingbirdblues/pseuds/Mockingbirdblues
Summary: Caduceus stands on the docks of Nicodranas, alone and unsure of where to go next in his search for the missing Clays.He finds a friend in Fjord and somewhere between sailing lessons and glowing jellyfish that friendship blossoms into something more. But Fjord is pursuing a dire quest of his own—one that could drive him to the deepest fathoms for redemption.Can they help each other, or are the tides of fate set too strongly against them?
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Fjord
Comments: 41
Kudos: 77





	1. Prologue

**“Endless depth ripples before you. You begin to flail but there’s resistance. The shimmering blue is directionless. There is no up. There is no down. There is only water.”**

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**“The sky is moonlit and cloudless. The starry night looks down at you. Your clothes are not your own, nor is your body.”**

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 **"As the blackness claims your vision, you see a distant shape. Waves curl against the shore. The surface escapes you, leaving you in freezing depths, fathoms below.** ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was a kid we listened to a musical called the Seal Maiden until the tapes wore out and Song Of The Sea is one of my favorite movies so, here we are. (I am mixing and matching selkie lore so I apologize to any purists out there.) 
> 
> This project is extremely self indulgent and also got wildly out of hand but it's been a wonderful distraction during isolation so I hope you enjoy the ride. Updates should be every 2-3 weeks if all goes well.
> 
> All feedback is appreciated. I'm fairly new to fanfic so still getting my sea legs. 
> 
> Thank you CritRoleStats for saving me many hours of hunting for and transcribing Fjord's weird dreams. https://bit.ly/2NgMnLR
> 
> Stay safe out there everyone!


	2. Prologue

**"The song of the sea / neither quiet nor calm**

**Between the stones/ between the storms**

**_Tá mé i dtiúin._ "**

_~*~_

Caduceus had never seen anything like it. The ocean stretched before him, blue and vast and beguiling, reaching beyond the curve of the horizon and the jut of Nicodranas on either side of him.

Gulls shrieked overhead, circling the sailors hurrying between ships that were laden with goods and passengers. The crash of waves against the shore was almost like the hiss of wind through trees. But only almost. 

He’d left the Blooming Grove a few weeks ago, alone—though he’d tried so hard not to be—and the journey had been more treacherous than he’d expected. The world, he was learning, was a challenging place. He was counting on the Wildmother to guide him but the briny air, the bright sun and the subtle rocking of the dock were all unsettling. None of it gave him a clue as to where he was supposed to go next. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

Caduceus turned to see a half-orc man with green-tinted skin and dark hair regarding him with equal parts curiosity and concern. The man stood at the base of a gangplank, just out of the way of a crew that disembarked steadily behind him from a tri-masted ship. When Caduceus didn’t respond, the man came closer, shifting the traveling bag slung over his shoulder as he approached. He paused a few feet from Caduceus and offered a tentative smile.

“This isn’t the best place for sightseeing,” he advised. “Unless you were hoping to attract the local pickpockets.”

“Oh, no.” Caduceus adjusted his straw hat to better block the sun. “I’m trying to get on a boat.”

“Well then maybe you’re in the right place after all,” the man switched his bag to his other shoulder. “The dock master can point you toward your vessel. You need help finding him?”

“Is it always like this?” Caduceus asked instead of answering, gesturing to the water. The half-orc followed his gaze.

“The...sea?”

Caduceus hummed affirmatively.

“I mean, it changes with the weather and the tides I guess.” The man stepped closer to Caduceus, eyeing him more carefully. “You sure you’re okay? Where are you headed?”

“I don’t know yet,” Caduceus admitted with a sigh. “I was hoping that hearing the options would make the path clearer.”

“O...kay. Well, you can get pretty much anywhere along the Menagerie Coast from here. Some might take you to more remote islands if you’ve got the coin. The dock master’s that way.” The man made sure he had Caduceus’ attention before pointing him to the heart of the docks.

“Where are you going?” Caduceus asked. The man hesitated just long enough for Caduceus to understand he’d asked a precarious question.

“We’re just coming in, actually. Staying put until we can resupply. Um, I’m Fjord, by the way.”

“Ford?”

“With a J.”

“Ah.” Caduceus smiled and offered his hand, which Fjord accepted. His grip was firm and calloused in a way that made the healer in Caduceus curious. 

“My name is Caduceus Clay. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Fjord. Thank you for the advice.”

“Sure thing.”

“Quartermaster!”

Fjord and Caduceus both looked toward a voice calling from the grounded side of the docks. At this distance, Caduceus could only see a woman with red hair and an impatient posture.

“I’ve gotta go,” Fjord excused. “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Mr. Clay.”

~*~

After an unilluminating conversation with the dock master, Caduceus spent most of the day wandering up and down the shoreline, watching the sanderlings dart in and out of the surf to hunt, marveling at the variety of shells and rocks and bits of foggy sea glass he plucked out of the sand (and then dutifully returned).

Caduceus made his way through the cobblestone streets under the warm glow of sunset until he found an inn with an open room. He settled at a table by himself during the dinner service and half heartedly listened to the conversations around him, letting most of the voices blur together until he heard one that stood out.

“You got any fire whiskey?”

Caduceus’ ears pricked at the distinctive drawl. He abandoned his table and wove through the crowded dining room until he reached the bar, where Fjord was leaning forward to be heard above the noise. The barkeep nodded at him and flitted away. The man standing next to Fjord shuffled off, drinks in hand, so Caduceus took his spot.

“Good evening, Mr. Fjord,” Caduceus greeted. Fjord startled.

“Ah, hello again...Clay?”

“Caduceus.”

“Right, apologies.” The smile Fjord offered was wary, but sincere. “Did you find a ship that suited you?”

Caduceus sighed. He leaned forward to match Fjord’s posture, resting his elbows on the tacky bartop. “No, unfortunately. I’m going to hang around for a bit and see if that changes.”

Fjord nodded. The barkeep set a glass in front of him and Fjord thanked him quickly. “Uh, what are you drinking?” Fjord asked Caduceus. “I’ll buy you a round.”

“Oh, nothing, it’s all terrible. Thank you though.”

Fjord chuckled. “Fair enough.” He downed half his drink.

Caduceus let him finish, then asked, “Can I ask you something?”

“...Shoot.”

Caduceus drummed his fingers on the bar. “If I wanted sailing lessons, what’s the best way to get them? I don’t know the first thing about the sea, but until I figure out where I’m going I may as well learn to be a little more useful.”

Fjord coughed around the lingering burn from the whiskey. “I’m sure you could find someone willing to teach you,” he said after clearing his throat. “Just be careful who you trust out here.”

“How did you learn to sail?”

Fjord turned his glass in his hands. “I learned as a kid.”

“That’s nice.” Caduceus watched Fjord pick at the edge of the glass with one blunted claw. “Your parents taught you?”

“No, uh, I grew up in an orphanage but I worked at the docks while I was there and picked up enough to hold my own.”

“I’m sorry.” Caduceus frowned.

Fjord shrugged. “What brings you to Nicodranas?”

“I’m following my family, I hope.”

“But you don’t know where they are?”

Caduceus nodded. “It’s a long story. They left to try and save our home. I stayed behind to keep an eye on things but it’s been a while. I felt like I couldn’t wait any longer so…” He spread his hands as if to hold the whole of Nicodranas in his palms.

“Hm,” Fjord agreed. He finished his drink, then turned to face Caduceus. “I’ll teach you some basics, if you like.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. We’re in port for a bit and, no offense, but I’m a little concerned that if you go asking around for lessons you’ll attract every con artist in town.”

“It’s that obvious?” Caduceus asked, smiling.

Before Fjord could answer, the woman with red hair came up behind him, pressed herself to his back, and slid one arm across his chest. Fjord startled at the woman’s touch but he didn’t push her away. She perched her chin on Fjord’s shoulder.

“Ah, the Firbolg from the docks,” the woman said, her voice lilting. “What a coincidence.”

Fjord dropped his gaze to his empty glass. “Caduceus, this is Captain Avantika.”

Caduceus smiled politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Captain.”

Avantika hummed. “We’re going to find someplace a little more exciting for this evening’s revelries. Would you like to come, Caduceus?”

“Oh, no thank you. This is already more excitement than I prefer.”

Avantika shrugged and lifted herself off Fjord. “Very well. Come on Fjord.”

“I’ll come by here tomorrow around midday?” Fjord proposed as he stood. Caduceus nodded. Avantika watched them closely, her eyes bright in the dim tavern light. Fjord turned to leave.

“Take care,” Caduceus said in farewell. Fjord paused. A small, quizzical smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Uh, thank you. I-”

“Fjord,” Avantika warned, impatient.

Fjord sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

~*~

That night, Caduceus dreamed of a warm voice and a cat’s eye made of sea glass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tá mé i dtiúin = I am in tune
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q6wVijh2n9g


	3. Chapter 3

Fjord met Caduceus at the inn the next day as promised, then led him away from the commercial docks and through the residential area of town until the cobbletones gave way to hard sand. They walked out onto a small dock, where Fjord was greeted warmly by a fisherman who introduced himself to Caduceus as Rinaldo. 

“Use whatever you need, just bring it back in once piece please,” Rinaldo said in farewell before climbing aboard one of three available boats and easing into the harbor. 

“An old friend?” Caduceus guessed. 

“Kind of. Last time I was ashore I helped him out with a snake problem. You ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be, I think.” 

Fjord led Caduceus to the smaller of the two remaining boats, though boat was a generous term for the flat, single-sailed dinghy that looked too small for even a single person. Caduceus’ doubt was immediate and overwhelming. 

“It’s steadier than it looks,” Fjord assured. “We’ll start with the basics, get you comfortable around the equipment, then we’ll move on to something bigger.” He nodded toward the second fishing vessel—smaller than what Rinaldo had taken out but still more comfortably boat sized. Caduceus nodded slowly. 

“C’mon, the worst that happens is we both take a little dip, and learning how to un-capsize yourself is important too,” Fjord encouraged. He started toward the boat, then paused and turned back to Caduceus. “You can swim, right?” 

“Last time I checked, yes.” 

“How long ago was that?” 

Caduceus had to think for a moment, long enough for Fjord’s concern to solidify. 

“Just in case, let’s switch.” He loosened the red ties on his leather armor and shrugged out of it, handing the chestplate to Caduceus. “It’s enchanted, it’ll help you swim if you get into trouble.” 

“Oh,” Caduceus said, his voice soft with surprise. “Thank you. What about you?” 

“I’m pretty comfortable in the water.” 

Fjord waited for Caduceus to adjust the armor as well as he could given the differences in their size, then crouched by the sailboat. 

“Alright, first off, I guess, bow is the front, stern is the back. Port is left, starboard is right when you’re facing front.” 

Caduceus listened intently as Fjord described the parts of the boat, showed Caduceus how to rig the sail and demonstrated the use of the daggerboard and rudder, but he struggled to keep up as Fjord elaborated on navigation tactics and etiquette around other boats and how to spot early warning signs of rough weather. 

“That’s...probably a lot for today,” Fjord said when he noticed Caduceus’ pinched expression. “Do you want to finish up with a lap around the harbor?” 

“Sure,” Caduceus said, trying to sound braver than he felt. Fjord held the boat steady against the dock while Caduceus tentatively crawled aboard. The sail fluttered at Caduceus’ shoulder and the hull was warm from sitting in the sun. He did his best to resist clinging to the mast when Fjord nimbly sat opposite him, their legs crowding close together in the footwell. 

“Just an easy out and back,” Fjord assured as he picked up the slack in the sail. The boat drifted slowly away from the dock—a quiet, docile thing until the wind caught the sail. Caduceus’s breath stuttered as the boat jumped to life. 

“Scoot,” Fjord instructed, nudging Caduceus with his foot as he reoriented so they were balanced on opposite sides. The wind picked up the further they got from shore and the boat gathered speed, skimming over the water. Waves splashed over the sides, soaking Caduceus’ arms and pants with cold saltwater until he shivered. 

“You doing okay?” Fjord called over the wind. Caduceus looked up and found him grinning, his posture confident, his gaze fixed on the horizon except for when he glanced at Caduceus. 

“Yep!” Caduceus said, his voice tight. Fjord laughed. 

“Just breathe; being tense makes it worse.” 

Caduceus exhaled. He copied Fjord’s gaze, focusing on the hazy line between sea and sky. The ocean was so open, so unlike the close company of trees he was used to. If Fjord kept going they would hit the open sea and could sail forever, it seemed, at the mercy of the waves and whatever lurked beneath.

“Get ready to jib,” Fjord called, breaking Caduceus out of his thoughts. “When I say so, get real low, the boom’s gonna come right over you and we’re gonna switch sides.” 

Caduceus prayed briefly and passionately.

“Jibing. Duck, Cad.”

Caduceus bent over his knees, just low enough for the sail to swing at Fjord’s bidding so the boat could change course. 

“See, not so bad,” Fjord said once they were safely reoriented. Caduceus was not sure he agreed, but he was unwilling to dampen Fjord’s enthusiasm. Happy looked good on him: his cheeks were flushed faintly from adrenaline, he instinctively adjusted his balance to counter the waves and the wind. He seemed at home. Caduceus felt something suspiciously close to fondness bloom under the chill of saltwater on his skin. 

Fjord helped Caduceus out of the boat once it was secured to the dock again. Caduceus had never been so grateful for solid ground. 

“You did really well,” Fjord said. “I’m going to make you a fan of water before our time is done, I swear.”

“I don’t mind it,” Caduceus replied as he undid Fjord’s armor and handed it back to him. “I think I just have an issue with the things that are in it, and being under it.”

“Sure. Makes sense.” Fjord fiddled with his armor when Caduceus returned it, frowning, but he smiled when he met Caduceus’ eyes.

“I’ve got to stick around the Squalleater tomorrow, but we can pick this up the day after, if you want?” 

Caduceus tilted his head and matched Fjord’s smile. “That would be excellent. Thank you, Fjord.” 

~*~

Caduceus’ mission for his off-day was to find an appropriate gift for Fjord. Fjord had refused monetary payment for his expertise but Caduceus couldn’t let him go uncompensated. He wandered through the market, intrigued by the bright shouts of merchants making colorful promises, but none of the stalls had anything that felt quite right. 

Caduceus retreated into the cool quiet of a bookshop when the heat and commotion began to wear on his nerves. The shopkeeper nodded to him in greeting, then left him alone to wander the shelves. Caduceus ran his fingers gently along the spines, marveling at the variety. They had a library at home but it was mostly stocked with devotional texts and notes on the flora and fauna of the Savalirwood. 

“Nothing like this,” Caduceus muttered to himself as he investigated a copy of a novel titled “Tusk Love.” 

“Anything I can help you with, sir?” 

Caduceus hastily replaced the book. “I’m not sure,” he admitted to the shopkeeper as she approached. She was an older halfling with intricately braided hair and thick glasses. She smelled faintly of salt and woodsmoke and was trailed by a small, greying dog.

“Well, what are you looking for?” 

“A gift for a friend—at least, I think we’re friends.” 

“What does this friend like?” The shopkeeper asked, bemused. The dog shuffled to sniff Caduceus’ boots, its milky eyes blinking up at him until he crouched to pet it. 

“I don’t really know. I haven’t known him long.” 

“What does he do?” 

“He’s a sailor.” 

The shopkeeper nodded. She beckoned Caduceus to the far side of the shop. “We have plenty of manuals on sailing and navigating, biographies of notable captains and pirates, atlases of the world, guides to sea life…?” 

Caduceus flipped through a text-heavy volume that seemed to diagram the prevailing currents in the oceans. He closed it before it could give him a headache. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, offering the shopkeeper a smile. “I’m not making this easy.” 

The shopkeeper shrugged. She pointed to a book above Caduceus’s head—a dark blue cover with a gilded title. 

“Maritime Myths and Legends,” Caduceus read aloud. 

“Everyone likes a fairytale.” 

Caduceus hummed. He flipped through the book carefully, turning each page with gentle fingers. It spun tales of merfolk and sea monsters and sirens that lured men to crash their vessels against rocky shores. Caduceus was used to the fey and creatures that lived in the Savalirwood—some cooperative, others ruthless, all of them worthy of caution—so he was not surprised to see their oceanic cousins boasting equally dark reputations. 

“These don’t look so bad—selkies?” Caduceus traced the outline of a young woman stepping out of her sealskin under the light of a full moon. “Oh,” he amended when the first paragraph detailed the strategy selkies employed to trap and drown their well-meaning rescuers. 

“Everything in the water can be dangerous,” the shopkeeper said noncommittally. Caduceus sensed her patience was wearing thin. He reshelved the book. 

“Do you happen to have any field guides for the forest?” 

~*~

The woods of Nicodranas stretched to the brink of the sea. Caduceus paused at the edge of the forest, his shoes in hand, his feet burning slightly from the hot sand he’d crossed once he left the wood and cobblestone of the city behind. 

“Hello,” he greeted with a bow. “Thank you for allowing me here. I don’t need much. If there’s anything I can do to help, please let me know.” 

The shade of the trees was a welcome balm. Caduceus walked quietly and listened to the songs he knew well: the slow opening of leaves and petals, the gentle sway of branches in the breeze, the curious whisper of so many growing things. He followed a winding game trail, pausing frequently to compare the unfamiliar plants to the illustrations in his field guide while songbirds watched him from hidden perches. 

The sky had turned ruddy by the time Caduceus knocked on the craftsman’s door. He apologized for the late hour, but the craftsman only smiled at him, waving off his concerns. She accepted the ingredients he’d gathered and assured him she would have his request completed by midmorning the next day. 

~*~

Caduceus dreamed of being under a roiling sea. Shadows tossed him through cold, midnight depths until the earth suddenly rose to catch him. He felt sand grate against his arms and when he inhaled it felt like the first time he’d used his lungs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I was a kid my mom's family had a little sunfish sailboat. All 8 of her siblings pitched in to buy it (used) as a family boat and it still broke constantly, but the days we spent sailing around in the bay were experiences I wish I'd valued more in the moment. 
> 
> All that to say that the sailing knowledge in this piece is 80% remembered from my childhood and 20% actually fact checked so I apologize for errors but life is just too short.


	4. Chapter 4

“I have something for you,” Caduceus said by way of greeting when he found Fjord waiting on Rinaldo’s dock the next day. Fjord had been watching the sea, leaning against a post with his arms crossed and his gaze faraway. He had not fully come back to himself when Caduceus handed him a small clay pot.

“It’s for your hands,” Caduceus explained. “My mother makes something similar for us at home. Obviously I didn’t have the same plants to work with, but I think I found good substitutes.” 

“Oh.” Fjord undid the top and swiped his finger experimentally through the salve. It smelled strongly of pine and melted easily into his skin after some rubbing. “Wow, uh, Caduceus. Thank you. You really didn’t have to do this.” 

“If you don’t like it, of course, you don’t have to-” 

“No, no,” Fjord assured. “I just, uh. This is very thoughtful. Thank you.” 

Caduceus smiled, but his satisfaction was short lived. Once he donned Fjord’s armor and placed his own in a waterproof box on Rinaldo’s second ship, Fjord declared that Caduceus was going to take control of the small boat. 

“It’s as calm as it's gonna get,” Fjord said, gesturing to the waves stirred by just enough breeze to rouse the striped sail. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be right here.” 

“Fine” was a strong word for the way Caduceus felt as he fumbled with the rigging and perched where Fjord had sat during their first lesson. He moved the rudder experimentally. 

“Steering’s backwards,” Fjord reminded from his place at the mast. “Right to go left, left to go right.” Caduceus nodded. 

“Ready?” Fjord asked, his hand poised to slip the knot holding the boat to the dock. 

“Not remotely,” Caduceus sighed. “Let’s go.” 

The boat made slow progress while Caduceus struggled to coordinate what felt like a million variables. Fjord kept up his gentle coaching, unbothered by Caduceus’ growing panic until a wave knocked them dangerously close to a buoy.

Caduceus instinctually leaned away from the obstacle so suddenly that he tipped the boat’s balance and fell backwards off the edge. Cold water flooded his mouth and stung his eyes. There was nothing below or above or to any side of him to grab onto and his body couldn’t seem to remember the order of operations for swimming over the deafening quiet as he sank deeper, deeper.

Then magic warmed Caduceus’ chest. He felt lighter; he felt braver. He kicked and reached towards the surface, aided by Fjord’s armor until he broke the waves and took a gasping breath. 

“Hey, easy, you’re okay.” Fjord was pulling him along, guiding him to the turtled boat. “Here, hold on. Take some deep breaths.” 

Caduceus held fast to the boat. Slowly, his vision softened to reveal Fjord treading water beside him. Fjord smiled.

“You were a little quick on the draw there.” 

“Gods, I’m sorry. I’ll—I’ll pay for it.” 

Fjord chuckled. “Or we can just flip it back over.” 

“Really?” 

“Really. Here,” Fjord tapped the daggerboard. “You hang on to that.” Caduceus did. Fjord added his weight, leaning against the sturdy wood until the boat slowly started to rock onto its side. 

“Watch out,” Fjord warned as he jerked his bodyweight down to give the boat the momentum it needed to right itself. Caduceus swam out of the way, flinching when water rained down on him from the sail. Fjord lifted himself easily out of the water, bailed out enough of the footwell to take Caduceus’ added weight and then extended a hand to Caduceus. 

“Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us,” Fjord said once Caduceus was safely on board. Caduceus’s eyes still burned from the water and he felt ill. 

“You should take us home,” Fjord suggested. “Get right back on the horse.”

Caduceus blinked at him. Surely he was joking? But Fjord just leaned forward, a silent offer to switch places. Something about his willingness to trust Caduceus despite the fact they’d just capsized spurred Caduceus to action. Fjord made a pleased hum as they shuffled, but he stayed close, ready to reach out and right their course if needed. There was a sharp moment when the wind surged and they got caught in the wake of a passing ship. The sailboat pitched and dipped. Caduceus’ hands froze on the lines and his breath faltered in his chest. 

“Easy,” Fjord said, leaning to counterbalance the boat as it rocked. “Keep the tension, just sail through it.” 

Caduceus set his jaw and tightened his grip on the rigging, keeping the sail taut enough to break through the turmoil and back into easy water. 

“That was great,” Fjord praised after he secured the boat to the dock and bailed out the last of the water. 

“You’re exaggerating,” Caduceus accused heatlessly. He stood with his arms wrapped around himself, shivering even in the sun. Fjord shook his head.

“I mean it. That was solid for your first time out. ” 

Caduceus retrieved his armor and returned Fjord’s chestplate. “Thank you for that,” he said, “I’ll do better next time.” 

“Next time,” Fjord agreed, though he seemed distracted as he fingered the leather plates on his armor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tfw a cute boy brings you a gift and you're....suspicious????


	5. Chapter 5

Caduceus’ second day captaining was mercifully uneventful. He still tangled the lines and had to constantly remind himself of the flipped steering, but the boat remained upright and neither he nor Fjord came to any irreparable harm. Caduceus was so stunned by his own semi-competence that he almost missed it when Fjord asked—quickly, as if he was worried the words would die in his throat—“Uh, if you’re not busy, would you mind showing me what you used in that salve?”

“Now?” Caduceus asked, blinking against the unrelenting midday sun. Fjord ducked his head. 

“If you want,” he said. “If not, that’s fine, I meant to ask earlier, I just, uh-” 

“I’d be happy to,” Caduceus assured, to save Fjord from explaining himself. Fjord smiled at him, grateful. 

~*~

The forest remembered Caduceus; it greeted him with a gentle breeze when he stepped beneath its canopy.

“I’m so impressed by everything that grows here,” Caduceus said—mainly to the trees, but also to Fjord, who followed him carefully into the shade. 

“I assume it’s pretty different than where you’re from?” Fjord asked. 

Caduceus nodded. He set off down the same game trail he had followed several days before, pausing to show Fjord each plant needed for the salve. “We should go further in so we don’t take too much from these spots,” he said, easing around Fjord on the narrow path. 

“Lead the way,” Fjord agreed as he swatted at a black fly. 

Caduceus hadn’t realized how much he missed home until the woods closed around him and the sound of the ocean truly faded away. He felt himself unwind as he led Fjord deeper into the woods. Tension loosed from his shoulders and his gut and his jaw, leaving his body humming slightly, feeling warm and peaceful for the first time in weeks. Even though the trees here were unlike anything in the Blooming Grove their low whispers and steady presence soothed some of the anxiety that had taken root in Caduceus’ heart. He and Fjord split up once they found a good spot and he let himself get lost in the comfort of pitch pines and junipers.

“Where exactly did you say you’re from?” Fjord asked when he came to deposit his contribution in the bag Caduceus had brought. Caduceus blinked at him from his place kneeling at the base of a tree. His words came slowly, weighed down by blackberry vines and wild roses. 

“The Blooming Grove. It’s in the Savalirwood near Shady Creek run.” 

Fjord shook his head. “Sorry, I’m not familiar with much inland.” 

“That’s okay. We don’t get many visitors.” 

Fjord crouched down to set the plants in Caduceus’ pack. “And you left to try and save your home?” 

“Yes.” Caduceus sighed. “The woods have been affected by a curse and we can’t figure out what’s causing it. My family left in stages, each looking for a cure, but they must have run into trouble because nobody’s come back for…” Caduceus paused, realizing with a sickening flash that he wasn’t quite sure how long he’d been alone. 

Fjord noticed Caduceus’ hand tighten around the flowers he was holding. “I hope you find them,” he said, unsure of what else he could do. 

Caduceus smoothed the crumpled petals with a soft apology and a whisper of green magic. “Thank you. So do I. It’s been...challenging, trying to decide what to do on my own. It wasn’t so bad at home, I knew my duties and the Wildmother was always close since we live in the temple. But now, even here,” he gestured to the forest, so familiar yet so foreign, “I’m having trouble hearing Her.” 

“Even at the Mother’s Lighthouse?” 

“...The what?” 

Fjord tilted his head. “The temple to the Wildmother. In the lighthouse. In the middle of the harbor?” 

Caduceus blinked at him. He remembered seeing a lighthouse where the Restless Wharf became the Open Quay but hadn’t thought it was anything but a lighthouse.

“I’ve never been and I hear it’s more of a working lighthouse than a public temple,” Fjord said as he picked dirt from under his blunted claws. “But I don’t see why they wouldn’t let you in if you’re a follower.” 

Caduceus pushed his hair back, smudging sap on his brow. “I guess I’ve been a little distracted,” he said with a smile that Fjord didn’t look up to see. “Thank you, I’ll pay it a visit.” 

They stood. Caduceus gazed back the way they’d come, reluctant to leave but also certain he’d taken up enough of Fjord’s time. But Fjord was turned in the other direction. He took a few steps forward, drawn towards something Caduceus couldn’t sense. 

“We could keep going, if you want,” Fjord offered. 

Caduceus drew even with him. “Do you know where this leads?” he asked. 

Fjord swatted at a persistent black fly that buzzed close to his face. “The sea, eventually.” 

Caduceus removed his straw hat and placed it on Fjord’s head. When Fjord looked up at him, wary and surprised, Caduceus explained: “You’re going to hurt yourself swatting at bugs.” 

“They don’t bother you?” Fjord asked as another black fly circled close. Caduceus flicked his ear to shoo it away. Fjord chuckled. “Fair enough.” 

They walked in easy quiet. Fjord led the way, confident in his direction even though he occasionally stumbled on roots and stones that rolled out from under his boots. Caduceus fell into step with him when the path widened enough to allow it. 

“You said you’ve worked on ships your whole life?” 

“Pretty much.” 

“What would you do if you weren’t a sailor?” 

Fjord paused at a fork in the trail. “I...I honestly have no idea. It’s all I’ve ever known.” 

“You’re sad when you look at the sea,” Caduceus said, recalling Fjord’s faraway gaze the day Caduceus had given him the salve.

“I am?” 

“Maybe longing is a better word.” 

“Oh.” Fjord narrowed his eyes down one path, as if he could see the distant waves if he tried hard enough. “This way,” he said after a moment of deliberation, turning down the other route. Caduceus didn’t push him for more, but after several minutes of quiet Fjord said, “You know, I did try, once. Right after I left the Driftwood Asylum I had it in my head that I’d go to this school, the Solstryce Academy, and learn magic. They, understandably, had no interest in a street orphan with no apparent magical abilities, and I was so heartsick away from the water. I went running to the nearest port and took the first job I was offered. I don’t know. Maybe it would be different if I found something I liked, or someone to travel with.” 

“Most journeys are better taken with friends,” Caduceus affirmed. “It’s good that you have somewhere you feel you belong.” 

“Well, I dunno about that,” Fjord muttered quietly enough that Caduceus was not sure if he’d been meant to hear it. Fjord cleared his throat.

“What about you?” he asked. “What do you do in the Blooming Grove?” 

Caduceus shrugged. “We protect the temple and watch over the graveyard. We make excellent tea, if you’re ever interested, I have a little left.” 

Fjord’s step faltered. “You live in a cemetery?” 

“Graveyard,” Caduceus corrected patiently. “Technically, I live in the temple. My siblings and I used to dare each other to sleep outside near the graves but our parents discouraged it. It’s disrespectful to the dead.” 

“Right, of course.” Fjord coughed. “You ever see any...ghosts?” 

Caduceus cocked his head. “Are you afraid of ghosts, Fjord?” He asked, his smile bleeding into his voice. Fjord straightened. 

“Not-I mean-I don't _like_ them.” 

“Surely you’ve seen far more frightening things out on the sea,” Caduceus teased. “Sea serpents and sirens and...what else did I see in that book, ah, selkies. Lots of S names; I wonder why that is.” 

Fjord yanked the brim of Caduceus’ hat down to obscure his face. When he spoke next, his voice was hard. 

“That stuff isn't real.” 

Caduceus blinked. An apology jumped to his lips, but he didn’t understand what he’d said. Before he could catch up, the forest fell away to reveal sand dunes, some towering several stories high, rising beyond the trees and winding between the forest and the sea like a mountain range. Fjord and Caduceus halted, both stunned. 

“Wow,” Caduceus breathed. 

“Agreed,” Fjord said. He and Caduceus exchanged a glance; Caduceus saw a fraction of hesitation in Fjord’s expression, of guarded hurt, but it vanished as Fjord grinned and jogged forward, following the game trail as it continued into the heart of the dunes. 

The sand was deep and hot. The trail brought them sliding down steep inclines and folding almost to their hands and knees when faced with an opposing peak to climb. The sea and the forest both disappeared, eclipsed by the strange desert dotted with seagrass and hardy shrubs and the bravest, most determined trees Caduceus had ever seen. Fjord was often a few steps ahead but stayed close enough to offer encouraging grins and steadying hands as needed. By the time he and Caduceus broke onto the beach proper they were both breathless and laughing. Caduceus couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt so bright. 

“Are there many places like that in Nicodranas?” Caduceus asked as he and Fjord waded into the shallows to cool their feet. Fjord shook his head, careful not to lose Caduceus’ hat in the wind that skipped off the water. 

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said. 

“Lucky us.” 

Fjord huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.” His gaze drifted out to sea, going quiet as the waves lapped at his calves. Caduceus watched Fjord fade into himself and again saw a sadness cross over his features. The tide shifted the sand under their feet, pulling the ground away until they were rooted to the spot. Pelicans swooped low beyond the breaker line. Dolphin fins sliced the distant surface. A ship appeared over the horizon, drawing Caduceus’ attention. 

When Caduceus looked back, Fjord was chipping at his lower canine with rough, practiced flicks of his thumb. 

“You’ll break a tooth like that,” Caduceus warned, half joking. Fjord startled, flushed, and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Sorry, bad habit.” 

Caduceus blinked; he might not have made the connection if Fjord didn’t look so guilty. 

“Do you chip them...on purpose?” He asked carefully. 

Fjord rubbed the back of his neck and shifted his weight. “Kind of. I guess. There wasn’t anyone else like me at the orphanage so I took a lot of shit growing up. I couldn’t change much about how I looked but the tusks were a big target, so I decided to take away that opportunity.” 

“Does it hurt?” 

Fjord shrugged. “You get used to it.” 

Caduceus took a moment to process that before replying. “Surely your crew doesn’t make fun of you for them though,” he said as he reached to pluck a passing piece of seaweed out of the water. “Do you need to keep doing that?” 

“I guess not,” Fjord shuffled his feet, burying them deeper in the sand. “I dunno. It’s kind of like, this is how I see myself now?”

Caduceus paused again. He inspected the seaweed while he organized his thoughts, then returned it to the water and watched it float away. “I know a bit about what it’s like to have pieces that don’t fit,” he said. “By all means, do what feels right for you, but for what it’s worth I never found much to gain from hiding who I am.” 

Fjord breathed with the push and pull of the waves that broke harmlessly against his legs. “What pieces?” he said. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Cad hummed nonchalantly. “The hair, for one.” 

Fjord almost gasped. “Really?” 

“Nobody’s born with pink hair, Fjord, that’s just ridiculous,” Caduceus deadpanned.

Fjord burst into laughter. Caduceus’ answering smile was quieter, but no less honest. 

When Fjord eventually suggested they leave, it was with great reluctance. Caduceus followed him back through the dunes and the forest, whispering a prayer of thanks when they left the trees behind. Fjord paused when the town came back into view. Nicodranas burned golden before them, gilded by the setting sun. 

“Hey, Caduceus.” 

“Hm?” 

“I don’t mean to be rude, but why are you doing this?” 

Caduceus frowned. “Ah...I don’t follow,” he admitted. “You asked, right?” 

Fjord’s reply was stammered. “Oh. Yeah. For the salve. Of course. Never mind. I just—I’m tired. Overthinking things.” He handed Caduceus’ hat back to him but avoided meeting his gaze. “I need to stay put for a bit,” he said. “But I’ll see you in a few days?” 

“Ah, sure. Any time." 

~*~

Caduceus dreamed of a song, sweet and aching. When he woke, his mouth tasted of salt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never before have I worked with two characters so willing to talk to each other. I hope I am not abusing this power. 
> 
> Next time: Some hurt, followed by a boat date!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This chapter includes Cad having a mild anxiety attack and nightmares. He's able to calm himself down but if that's not what you want to read right now skip to chapter 7.)

Mornings at the inn were rowdy affairs. If Caduceus managed to sleep through the clank of dishes that announced the kitchen’s pre-dawn preparations then he woke to dozens of patrons chatting loudly over breakfast, or to the overwhelming smell of cooked fish, or to the shudder of the old walls as his fellow guests noisily exited their rooms and stomped down the halls. Caduceus had never been one to sleep late, but he would give anything for the quiet of the Blooming Grove.

His dreams left him feeling anxious, like he was forgetting something or he was supposed to be looking for something important. He was looking for his family, of course, but somehow that answer never settled him. There was something else. 

Caduceus sighed. He splayed one hand over his chest, feeling his heartbeat against the thin armor of his ribs, and focused on the rise and fall. He counted his breaths, slowly deepening his inhalations and extending his exhalations to calm his nerves and bring his attention back from his spiraling thoughts.

He waited to open his eyes until he felt more present and the points of contact he made with the stiff mattress felt real enough to anchor him. Then he blinked, slowly, and let out one more long exhale before letting his breathing even out. Discomfort itched at the back of his mind, still worried, still sinking towards panic, but Caduceus did his best to ignore it. He sat up and rubbed his face. 

Dreams were not the Wildmother’s usual method of contacting Caduceus, and these dreams were so disjointed, so cryptic—even for a goddess—that Caduceus wasn’t sure if there was anything divine about them or if it was his own stress following him into sleep. He stood and stretched, trying to work the stiffness out of his joints from the not-quite-Firbolg-sized bed. 

After he dressed, Caduceus assessed his remaining funds and supplies. He had enough coin to keep his room for the time being, and now that he was familiar with the forest he could always forage for enough to either feed himself or barter with. 

What concerned him more was his components pouch. He only had enough incense and holy water left for one communion, and he wasn’t sure if the merchants he’d seen selling similar wares had exactly what he needed. He’d only ever used water his family had blessed and incense they’d made. He didn’t even know if something bought in a market would _work_.

“It’s okay,” Caduceus muttered to himself as he sat on the edge of the bed and closed his eyes against his whirling thoughts. He attuned to his breathing again, coaxing it down from the hurried rhythm it had slipped into while he worried. He counted. He grounded. He planted himself firmly in the present moment and then gently, carefully, let those moments blend together. 

“Okay,” he said on an exhale. “You’re okay.” The words echoed. His gut churned. He inhaled deliberately. “It’s going to be okay.” 

Inhale. Exhale. Slower each time. Focus on the sensation. Be here. 

“Okay.” He turned his palms face-up on his knees, open, receptive. He let himself see his fears—of failing, of being too late, of being lost—and then he let them go, set them adrift like fish in the open sea while he turned his mind to what he could accomplish today.

He needed more information about his possible destinations. He could go back to the bookstore and browse, or he could look for a proper library. He needed to know if anyone had seen the Clays here over the past...months...years? How long had it been since the last one left?

Inhale. Exhale. Focus.

He could ask the innkeeper. He could ask other inn keepers. He could go back to the dockmaster. 

There, a plan. 

Inhale. Exhale. Steadier each time. 

~*~

Caduceus was disappointed. The bookshop owner was happy to let him read at will (accompanied by the elderly dog) but none of the information made his path clearer. The closest library was apparently in Port Damali—not an impossible journey, but not something that felt _right_ either. 

He wandered the inns and docks, asking anyone he could hail if they had ever seen anyone like him. They all eyed him warily, then shook their heads or grunted an apology before hurrying off. 

Caduceus was too tired to dream. 

~*~

Caduceus spent his next day in the inn, resting and thinking and meditating, but if the Wildmother reached out it was lost between the shriek of gulls and the smell of fish.

~*~

Caduceus didn’t remember his dream, but he woke to a racing heart and a sweat-damp tunic. 

“This came for you,” the innkeeper said after Caduceus placed his breakfast order. She set a folded notecard on the bar. Caduceus’ own name stared up at him, printed in unfamiliar handwriting. 

“Thank you,” Caduceus said, but the innkeeper had already moved on to her next customer. Caduceus unfolded the note and smiled. 

_“Hey, Caduceus. Sorry to send a runner. I can’t get away this morning but I’ll be at Rinaldo’s by midday if you’re interested. Thanks. ~Fjord”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you project anxiety onto characters but then also project healthy coping mechanisms onto them then it all balances out, right?
> 
> Next up: Actual Boat Date (I wanted this part to stand alone so it would be easy to skip if anyone needs to.)


	7. Chapter 7

Fjord was speaking to Rinaldo when Caduceus met him at the docks. Rinaldo’s voice carried on the breeze but Caduceus didn’t catch the words. His nerves were wrecked and raw; it took all his focus to keep walking and nod at Rinaldo when he passed Caduceus on the way back to his hut. The vastness of the sea and the sky felt too empty, the comfort of the trees too far away, the cold of the water absolute and inevitable. Caduceus shivered. 

“Whoa, you look awful," Fjord said once Caduceus approached. "Uh-I mean, are okay?” 

Caduceus squinted against the sun to look at Fjord, who was frowning and leaning toward Caduceus as if to steady him. 

“Haven’t been sleeping well,” Caduceus said, trying for a smile. “But I’m okay, really. What are we doing today?” 

Fjord considered Caduceus again, noting the weariness that weighed down his shoulders and his ears and the corners of his mouth. 

“You know, I could actually use a quiet day too,” he said. “If you give me half an hour I’ll get some food together and then we can sail out to Osprey Cove. It’s kind of a local secret so there’s usually nobody out there. Should be nice and peaceful, plus the birds are cool.” 

Caduceus perked up at Fjord’s offer. “Are you sure? I don’t want to keep you from anything important.” 

“Trust me, you’d be doing me a favor.” 

“Well, in that case…”

“Great.” Fjord smiled and gestured to a shady spot on the shore. “Just take it easy. I’ll be right back.” 

Fjord returned as promised and ushered Caduceus onto the medium-sized sailboat. He directed Caduceus through the rigging, showing him the parallels to the dinghy, then tasked him with sitting on the deck and protecting the food from opportunistic seagulls. 

The boat wove through the bustle of the harbor beyond Rinaldo’s dock, then out to open ocean. Caduceus held the pack closer as the shore blinked out of sight behind the ripple of waves. 

Fjord brought them to a secluded inlet where only a narrow strip of rocky beach wound beneath steep cliffs. They dropped anchor in the middle of the bay and settled down to eat, sharing rations and talking idly in a way that was starting to feel familiar. Caduceus traded stories of the many ill-advised shenanigans he and the other Clay children had gotten into growing up for Fjord’s accounts of life at sea gone humorously wrong, and Caduceus felt his unease thaw with every laugh he was able to pull from Fjord. 

When they tired, they lay back on the deck and dozed—Caduceus shielded by his hat, Fjord seemingly unbothered by the sun—until the heat became uncomfortable. Caduceus rolled up his pants and dangled his legs off the edge of the boat, his feet just reaching the cool water. Fjord shrugged out of his tunic and dove in. He surfaced, shook the water from his hair, and smiled up at Caduceus. 

“There are no sharks here,” he assured. “You can come in if you want.” 

“I’m alright,” Caduceus demurred. Fjord shrugged, turned, then ducked under the water, disappearing into the blue-green shadows. Caduceus kicked his legs slowly, watching the ripples his movement created clash with the quiet waves. He was entranced by the patterns and the play of light, but he made sure to keep half his attention on the spot where Fjord had vanished. A minute passed, then a few more. Caduceus went still. 

“Fjord?” He called, glancing around the boat in case Fjord had resurfaced elsewhere and Caduceus hadn’t heard. But Caduceus was alone. Panic itched in his chest. He counted through another minute before he let himself be afraid.

Caduceus rummaged through the supplies kept on the boat until he found a spare length of rope. He tied one end to the boat and held the remaining coil tightly, gathering his courage and composure, praying fiercely as he sat on the edge of the boat and braced himself to dive.

Fjord’s head broke the water almost exactly where he'd vanished. He coughed, then nodded to the left to dislodge water that had gotten in his ear. 

“I have something for you,” Fjord said, as if he hadn’t been gone longer than any mortal lungs should have allowed. Caduceus was too stunned to react until Fjord swam up to him and set something on the boat by Caduceus’ leg. Fjord drifted away again, ducking his mouth and nose under the water to blow bubbles while Caduceus inspected the gift. 

“What is this?” Caduceus asked. 

“A starfish, or a seastar. Depends on who you ask.” 

“It’s alive?” Caduceus gingerly picked the starfish up and marveled at the pulse of life he felt from the rigid creature.

“I’ll put it back when you’re done,” Fjord offered. 

“Did you get this from the bottom?” 

“On some of the rocks down there, yeah. I wasn’t sure if you’d seen one before. It won’t bite you.” 

“I haven’t, but, wait, how deep is that?” 

“Dunno. Not that deep.” 

“You were gone for a while." Caduceus did his best to keep his voice even. "I thought something had happened.” 

Fjord blinked. “Was I? Huh. Didn’t feel like very long. Look on the underside, they’ve got weird tiny feet.” 

Caduceus muttered an assurance to the starfish as he turned it over to see the small tubes lining each arm. “Feet” was a strange descriptor, but he could see the tubes moving slowly in what might equate to walking on the seafloor. 

“Thank you. I don’t want to hurt it,” Caduceus said, leaning forward to transfer the starfish back to Fjord. 

“Don’t worry, they’re tough,” Fjord replied, though he held the starfish as gently as Caduceus had. He dove again, and this time Caduceus counted the minutes carefully. Fjord wasn’t gone as long. He shot Caduceus a knowing smile upon returning. 

“You were timing me?” 

“Maybe. Just in case.” 

Fjord chuckled. He lifted himself back onto the boat and retrieved his towel and another bag of snacks, offering Caduceus the latter as he settled back down. Caduceus accepted, hoping the dried berries and nuts would banish the bitterness of fear. 

They lounged for a while longer. Caduceus read through his field guide while Fjord stretched out on his stomach and dozed again, though his sleep was restless. He woke with a sharp gasp just before Caduceus reached out to intervene. 

“Bad dream?” Caduceus asked. Fjord rubbed the center of his chest and sat up slowly, as if the movement hurt him. 

Fjord laughed, too sharp and too weary. “Something like that.” 

Caduceus pushed the last of their snacks toward him. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Nah,” Fjord sighed. “They never make sense anyways.” 

“I know the feeling,” Caduceus hummed. Fjord glanced at him, and for a moment looked as if he was going to ask a question, but then he turned away, rising to open one of the storage containers built into the deck. 

“Here,” he said as he tossed a small container Caduceus, who fumbled it badly but kept it from bouncing into the water. 

“Sorry,” Fjord said, failing to disguise his smile. “It’s, uh, so your skin doesn’t burn.” 

“Oh, thank you.” Caduceus inspected the cream. “I think I’m alright. Not sure how well this would go with the...fur and all.” 

Fjord flushed. “Oh. Shit. Yeah, of course, sorry. I'll, uh-"

“I think you should use it,” Caduceus said. “You’re getting darker, here,” he tapped his own cheeks, “and on your shoulders.” 

“Do I? Huh. Weird, I don’t usually…” Fjord flushed harder and twisted his head to inspect his shoulders, which had indeed taken on a darker shade of green. 

“It’s still probably not very good for your skin, even if it doesn’t hurt,” Caduceus added. “I can help if you can’t reach that far.”

Fjord smiled, but it was tight. “Uh. Sure. Thanks.” He hesitated, then sat down close to Caduceus and offered his back. Caduceus smeared a few fingers worth of the paste onto Fjord’s shoulders. Fjord shivered. He was tense under Caduceus’ hands. Caduceus paused.

“Fjord, is this okay?” he asked, even and gentle, taking his hands off until Fjord answered.

“Yeah,” Fjord assured with a sigh. “Yeah, you’re fine, sorry, I, uh…” He trailed off. Caduceus didn’t make him finish the thought, but he resumed his work slowly, ready to pull back as soon as Fjord indicated his touch wasn’t welcome. 

“So, how long have you been working with Avantika?” Caduceus asked.

“A little less than a year.” 

“And you’re the quartermaster? What does that mean?” 

Fjord relaxed slightly as he explained his duties. Caduceus worked slowly, attentive to the subtle twitch of Fjord’s muscles when he passed over a particularly sore spot or one of the scars scattered across Fjord’s back and shoulders. 

“What were you doing before you met her?” 

Fjord picked at the hem of his tunic where he’d bundled it in his lap. “I was working on another ship. The captain—a man named Vandran—took me in after the failed Soltryce thing and he was...very good to me when a lot of people in my life haven’t been. He was the closest thing I’ve ever had to a mentor.” 

Caduceus had focused on a knot on Fjord’s right shoulder, his hands instinctively seeking out pain to fix it. Fjord hissed a little at the pressure, but he didn’t move away. 

“Why did you leave?” Caduceus asked once the muscle had released. 

Fjord sighed. “A member of our crew sabotaged the ship one night during a storm. He caused an explosion that threw myself and, I assume, everyone else overboard. By some miracle I washed up on shore, but if anyone else survived I haven’t heard from them.” 

Caduceus’ hands faltered, just resting on the curve of Fjord’s shoulders. He squeezed gently. “I’m sorry.” 

Fjord shrugged, then swallowed his frown when Caduceus took it as a sign to pull away. “It happens,” he said. “What bothers me most is I don’t understand why he did it. Sabian and I were always kind of opposed to each other but I didn’t think he had it in him to do something like that.” 

Caduceus hummed. “It can be hard to truly know someone.” 

“I guess so…” 

They were quiet for a moment. Caduceus let the gentle lapping of waves soothe his nerves until he felt brave enough to say, “Avantika seems like an...interesting match. Romantically, I mean.” 

Fjord snorted. “Yeah. She’s something alright.” He turned so he was perpendicular to Caduceus, but kept his gaze on the water. “To be honest, we have a...deal...more than a relationship.” 

“Oh?” 

“She…” Fjord paused to watch an osprey dive talons-first into the water, disappearing for a moment before surfacing and flying off with its flapping catch. “We have somewhat of a shared goal, but her methods tend to be risky and I don’t trust her. I mostly try to limit the damage she does and that’s easier when I can keep her close, so to speak.” 

Caduceus frowned. “What kind of damage?” 

“Ah...you know.” Fjord picked at a callus on his hand. “I mean, she’s a pirate, so some of it’s expected, but it’s not what I want from my life. I won’t be sticking around once this is all over.” 

“Once what's over?"

Fjord shook his head. "It's a long story, forget it. I shouldn't have said anything." 

"Is there anything I can do? Or someone else who could help?” Caduceus asked. He reached for Fjord’s hand, but stopped himself before they touched. Fjord didn’t notice; he was staring at the flicker of curious fish under the water. 

“It’s alright. I can handle it. It’s not forever.” 

Caduceus ached to hear him so resigned, so willing to endure Avantika’s whims at the risk of his own wellbeing. He lay his hand over Fjord’s, stilling Fjord’s anxious claws where they were digging into the wood of the deck. 

“If there’s any way I can help, please don’t hesitate to ask,” Caduceus said. “There’s no shame in leaning on your friends.” 

Fjord blinked up at him, his slit pupils narrow in the sunlight. He took a deep breath, preparing, but when the words hit the edge of his teeth he bit down and looked away. 

“Thank you,” he said instead, clearing his throat and rubbing his neck. He took another beat to salvage what he’d wanted to say. Caduceus waited, as patient as the tide.

“I’ll let you know,” Fjord managed. “But just this, I mean, you being here. I’ve enjoyed it—your company.” He was blushing; he hoped Caduceus would mistake it for sunburn again. “It’s helped.” 

Caduceus smiled. “I’m glad. I’ve enjoyed it too.” 

There was a moment, heavy with opportunity, where Fjord turned his hand so he could lace his fingers with Caduceus’. Caduceus watched, open, trusting, curious, as Fjord faced him again. His heart fluttered against his ribs when Fjord’s gaze dropped to his mouth. Fjord began to say something else, but a rumble of thunder interrupted him and he pulled away, his attention immediately diverted to the storm clouds gathering over the sea. Caduceus tried not to mourn the loss of Fjord’s hand in his.

“Shoot, that’s coming in quicker than I thought,” Fjord said as a cool, wet breeze rocked the boat. “We should go.” 

Caduceus pulled the anchor in while Fjord freed the sails and took his place at the wheel. The journey to Rinaldo’s dock was fast and tense. Caduceus cast glances over his shoulder at the dark clouds. The air was alive around them, heavy and threatening.

They made it to the edge of the city just before the sky opened up, scattering the merchants and pedestrians in the streets. Caduceus cringed at the downpour, but Fjord laughed. 

“C’mon!” He urged, grinning at Caduceus before he ran toward the inn. Caduceus followed. His stride was uncertain on the slick ground and his bag banged uncomfortably against his hip, but he couldn’t help chuckling when Fjord fell into step with him, completely soaked yet still laughing. 

They were both panting by the time they stepped under the sheltered overhang of the inn. Caduceus bent over his knees. Fjord patted his shoulder, a few final chuckles rumbling under the hiss of rain against the roof. 

“I’ll be busy for a few days again, but I’ll come back when I can?” 

“Sure.” Caduceus righted himself despite the protests of his legs and the cramp in his side. He had to wipe water away from his eyes to see Fjord properly. “Take care.” 

Fjord ducked his head and the white streak in his hair flopped over his brow. “You too,” he said before stepping back into the rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm seems like they're bonding. It would be a shame if something were to happen to mess that up. 
> 
> Next time: Caduceus has a choice to make.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts with more nightmares/anxiety for Cad. Skip to the first page break to avoid it.

Caduceus dreamt of depths he had never seen before—of darkness and cold and a pressure unlike anything he could imagine. Something moved in the water; thick tentacles unfurled from the darkness and reached for him. Caduceus thrashed, but the sand at his feet sucked him down. He looked up—he thought it was up—and saw light that was distant, green and flickering. Unreachable. 

A hissing voice filled his head. The tentacles wound around his legs. Caduceus didn’t understand what the voice was saying, but he knew, somehow, that he’d been asked a question. He tried to speak. Saltwater rushed into his mouth, burning his throat and lungs. He doubled over, trying to cough, trying to breathe, and as he gripped at his chest he realized that his hands were not his own. They were mottled green.

Caduceus woke with the echo of his shout still ringing in his ears. The inn came back to him slowly: the too-small bed, the blanket that usually seemed unnecessarily heavy but was now a welcome anchor, the smell of fish, the wan sunlight and the passing shadows of gulls circling the inn’s waste bins. Caduceus sat up in stages, shaking and dizzy even as he leaned against the headboard. The dream was already slipping away from him; he could barely remember why he was so afraid. He’d been in water? Something had been watching him? 

He felt sick. 

Caduceus dropped his head into his hands and groaned. What was he _doing?_ Coming to Nicodranas had seemed like such a good idea when he’d set out. He’d been sure that the only way the Clays wouldn’t have contacted him was if they were separated by water, but now that seemed ridiculous. The silence, the nightmares, it must all be punishment. It was the Wildmother’s way of telling Caduceus that he should have never left the Blooming Grove. Now he’d wasted time and coin, and who knows how badly the Temple had deteriorated in his absence. 

Caduceus was on his feet and halfway through packing his things before his heart caught up to his head. 

What about Fjord?

Caduceus froze with a tunic partially folded in his hands and sat down heavily, pressing his back to the bed frame. He recalled what Fjord said about Avantika, about getting out as soon as he could, about enduring. 

They were friends. Right? Without Fjord, Caduceus would have stepped aboard the first ship that would have him. Caduceus wanted to help Fjord out of whatever deal was keeping him at Avantika’s side. He felt he owed Fjord that. But what could he do, really? What could he offer? He wasn't a fighter, he wasn't a master negotiator, he didn't have any influence here at the edge of the world he knew. 

Caduceus wanted...other things too, maybe. It had always been hard for him to tell. Attraction was something he didn’t fully understand—not the way other people described it. Fjord was handsome, of course, and kind, and the more Caduceus thought about how comfortable he felt in Fjord’s presence, how pleased he was to see Fjord laugh, how clearly he remembered what it felt like to hold Fjord’s hand, even for those few seconds before the storm interrupted them, the more he suspected he was in deeper than he meant to be. 

And. Well. That was something. Something that would probably lead to nothing. Even if Fjord felt the same way, even if Caduceus could help him break away from Avantika, Fjord said he was heartsick away from the sea. He would never be happy at the Blooming Grove, and Caduceus couldn't follow him in whatever he did next.

It wasn’t meant to be, no matter how badly Caduceus wanted it. 

Caduceus finished packing. He was numb and floating. He wasn't ready to leave, not quite yet, but he wanted to be anywhere but the inn. 

He took his smaller satchel with him, which contained the last of his coin, his components, and a small bundle of food left over from what Fjord had brought to Osprey Cove. The inn was oddly quiet but Caduceus moved through it without really noticing anything. The humid, briny air blanketed him when he stepped outside. He didn’t let himself think. He just started walking.

~*~

Caduceus found himself staring at the closed portal of a lighthouse door. The last notes of his knock disappeared under the crash of waves against the jut of earth the lighthouse commanded. He blinked. A long moment of silence passed and, despite Caduceus having come here unintentionally, he felt a stab of fear that the lighthouse might be empty. 

“What do you want?” A hard voice croaked from the other side of the door. Caduceus startled as the eye-slat was pulled back and a dark, weathered face stared back at him. 

“Oh, um, hello,” he said. “Are you the lighthouse keeper?” 

“I am.” 

Caduceus gave a slight bow to disguise the way his hands shook. “I think we’re supposed to talk. My name is Caduceus. Mother sent me?” 

Gladys was not pleased, exactly, that Caduceus was there, but she showed him the lighthouse and indulged his questions about its origins. She listened less intently when he told her of his home and his mission. 

“We’ve been holding the North against something dark,” Caduceus said. His hope grew with every step they took up the winding stone staircase. “I was waiting for a sign and I think this is it.” 

“You think the lighthouse will tell you how to save your temple?” 

Caduceus could not disguise his excitement. “Yes,” he breathed.

Gladys grunted noncommittally. She let Caduceus into the lantern room and directed his gaze out over the sea, which seemed even more endless from their vantage point. Caduceus pivoted slowly, taking in the full view of the ocean, the city, and the greener world beyond. It made him sad. He wasn’t sure why. 

“I don’t know how much help I can be,” Gladys said. “She looks over the ships at sea. She keeps them safe. I just keep this place safe in return.” 

“I have my own responsibilities to Her.” 

“I can tell.” Gladys turned her head to look at Caduceus. “I smell decay on you.” 

Caduceus could not tell if Gladys was displeased by this, as she had seemed displeased about everything so far. He asked, “Is there a place to sit quietly and find her voice?”

Gladys narrowed her eyes. 

“Ah,” Caduceus said, burying his panic under a placating smile. “I see.” 

Caduceus left Gladys with a small gift of tea and waited until he suspected she had returned to her post before he crept along the side of the lighthouse. He found a place facing the sea where he could tuck himself between root and stone while the ocean churned below him. The rocks were cold and damp, but he settled in to meditate, letting himself breathe in time to the waves until the pulse of the tide resounded in his ribcage. 

“Show me where to go, please,” he whispered. It wasn’t a formal request. It wasn’t a spell. Part of him—some small, childlike fraction of his heart—still wanted the Wildmother to prove that she was listening even if he didn’t use magic to call for her. 

_Show me where I’m needed,_ Caduceus thought before letting himself sink. 

~*~

Caduceus roused hours later, just as alone as he’d been before, with the sun low in the sky and tears drying on his cheeks. 

~*~

Nicodranas had transformed in Caduceus’ absence. His defeated journey back to the inn was impeded by crowds of people who were even rowdier than usual. They milled about with food and drink, laughing and singing along to the bards who had claimed street corners as stages. Strings of lanterns and magical lights hung between the rooftops, swinging gently in the breeze that came off the sea. Curiosity overwhelmed Caduceus’ exhaustion, compelling him deeper into the heart of the city, toward the steady beat of drums and bellow of bagpipes. He was stopped by a wall of people gathered on one side of a street. 

“Caduceus?” 

Caduceus turned to see Fjord stepping out of the crowd. Avantika followed close behind him. 

“Ah, we meet again,” Avantika greeted once they were within speaking distance. Her tone balanced between scorn and surprise, though Caduceus was too tired to dwell on it. 

“What is this?” He asked Fjord. 

“Uh, a festival?” 

“What’s it for? It’s too early for mid-summer.” 

Fjord watched Caduceus’ gaze flicker uneasily over the chaos of the street. “It’s based on the fishing season,” he said, trying for reassuring.

“And it’s been too long since the last one,” Avantika added. A wave of noise caught her attention and she tugged Fjord back to their places in the crowd. Fjord beckoned for Caduceus to join them. Caduceus hesitated, but Fjord doubled his efforts. Caduceus relented. 

A parade of costumed people turned down the street, led by dancers and musicians in colorful silks. Some added fire and magic to their performances as they twirled, earning another round of cheers that made Caduceus flatten his ears. 

Two horses appeared around the corner, their black coats glossy and burnished in the firelight. They pulled a flat cart behind them, upon which a large wooden statue stood, guarded by two seated warriors and surrounded by more on foot. The statue depicted some kind of creature, a combination of snake and fish and bird, coiled and ready to strike. 

“What is it?” Caduceus asked as the statue passed in front of them. 

“A local spirit,” Fjord replied over the noise. 

“From the very first people who called these waters home,” Avantika elaborated, casting a sly smile at Caduceus. “It is believed to still be very powerful; angering it could turn the fish away from ships and bring relentless storms.” 

“I see.” Caduceus noticed Fjord’s expression shuttering. The parade turned down the next street and the crowd started to disperse. 

“I am surprised to see you out here, Mr. Clay,” Avantika said without looking at Caduceus. “I thought you did not like parties.” 

“Well, I’ve never actually been to something like this,” Caduceus admitted. 

“Really? I can show you around if you want,” Fjord offered. “Make sure you get the full experience.” 

Caduceus smiled despite himself and the awful, horrible, extremely long day that weighed on him. “I’d like that.”

“As long as you don’t forget our plans,” Avantika interjected, finally pulling her gaze from where the statue had disappeared to rest on Fjord. 

“I won’t,” Fjord promised stiffly. Avantika hummed, stepped close, caught his chin and kissed him. Caduceus looked away, so he didn’t see Avantika tuck her head to whisper to Fjord before releasing him. 

“Enjoy your night, Mr. Clay,” Avantika bid, flashing a sharp grin. 

Fjord led Caduceus through the winding streets that had only grown more narrow with the influx of tipsy revelers. Their first stop was for food (after Caduceus admitted that he didn’t think he’d eaten anything yet that day) from one of many vendors who had set up carts or temporary stalls in the marketplace. Caduceus was stunned by the choices, which spanned everything from caramel apples to fish seasoned with spices Caduceus had never heard of before. Fjord procured two portions of twisted fried dough dusted with sugar, along with mead for himself and non-alcoholic blackberry cider for Caduceus. 

“My treat,” he assured when Caduceus dug in his pack for coins. They wandered the streets, eating, talking when the noise allowed, and pausing to watch performances by acrobats, fire-eaters and musicians. 

“What would your act be if you were in a circus?” Caduceus asked once they’d found a relatively quiet place to rest and share a cup of ice cream topped with honey-baked peaches. 

“Uhh...does knot tying count?” 

“I’d watch that,” Caduceus agreed with a sage nod. 

Fjord chuckled. “It’d be an audience of one then. What about you?” 

Caduceus tilted his head thoughtfully. “I don’t know. It’s not really an act but I’ve always thought tarot was interesting.” 

“You want to know the future?” 

“Not always, but it might be nice to have a hint now and then. Do you?” 

Fjord shrugged. “Not really. It feels like I’ve got enough to handle in the present. Besides, what if it’s bad?” 

“It can’t be all bad. Nothing’s all bad,” Caduceus said. He split the last peach slice with his spoon and took half for himself. “And nothing’s set in stone. You can always change the future to be better.” 

“You sound pretty confident about that,” Fjord said. 

Caduceus nudged the remaining peach slice toward Fjord. “Hope is one of life’s most useful tools.” 

Fjord smiled, a note of sadness lingering in his eyes, but he finished the peach and stood. “Come on,” he said, “there’s still more to see.” 

They walked toward the edge of town, passing artisans and merchants. Caduceus thought of his family, imagining what they would be drawn to among the colorful shelves. Fjord stopped at a small stage where a bard had just drawn a crowd. Her voice settled over the audience, stilling any restless listeners simply with the clarity of her words. Caduceus expected her to sing, but she spoke instead. 

"Once upon a time," she began, "on a shore much like this one, there lived a family of terrible monsters." 

The bard wove the tale of a seal maiden, cast out from her colony until she could prove her dedication to the family by luring and killing a fisherman. She washed ashore the night of a full moon, hid her sealskin safely under a rock, and then lay in the sand, crying out sweetly until the owner of the nearest fishing hut came to her aid. The fisherman bundled her in blankets and brought her into his home, where he cared for her until she recovered from the shock of transforming. 

The selkie had to wait for the next full moon to return to the sea, but while she gained the fisherman’s trust she slowly fell in love with him. When the time came to lure him into the surf she couldn’t do it. She told him everything of her plan and her family, and he agreed to come with her on the next full moon to kill her family and set her free from their influence. 

A month later, the fisherman and the selkie sailed out to the caves where her family lived. She dove into the water, transformed back into a seal, and led the fisherman safely through the rocks that protected the cave. They surprised her family and the fisherman attacked many of them before they realized what was happening. The selkie hid in the boat, but as her family fell, her monstrous nature took over and she attacked her lover, dragging him to the bottom of the sea. 

“And that,” the bard concluded with a flourish, “is why you never trust the seal-folk. No matter how docile they may seem, a monster is a monster through and through.” 

“What a horrible story,” Caduceus said, though the crowd clapped enthusiastically. He turned to Fjord, who was scowling at the ground.

“Yeah, well, I doubt it’s very accurate.” Fjord stood and shifted. He was restless and irritated in a way he hadn’t been when they’d sat down. Caduceus was about to ask him if he was okay when Fjord said, “Do you want to go down to the water? It’ll be quiet.” 

“Yes please.” 

Fjord relaxed again as they left the festival behind. The beach was empty and the sand was cool. The wind rustled the sea oats on the dunes and the waves rolled calmly against the shore. Fjord stopped a quarter mile from the town and sat down. 

“Did you really come out because you haven't been to a festival before?” He asked. 

Caduceus settled down beside him. “Well, kind of. I got stuck trying to get back to the inn.” 

“Busy day?” 

Caduceus nodded slowly; his exhaustion was starting to make itself known again. “I went to the lighthouse.” 

“Oh, hey. How’d it go?”

Caduceus hesitated. He blinked the sudden beginnings of tears from his eyes; he was so worn down and so confused. Fjord had taken his mind off of it but now it was all crashing back. 

“Sorry,” Fjord said. “Uh, you don’t have to talk about it, but, if you want to…” 

Caduceus lay back and was momentarily distracted from his misery by the astonishing vastness of the sky. He’d never seen so much of it at once before; in the Blooming Grove the canopy cut the stars into pools, but here, even with the hazy light from town, the heavens were as endless as the sea. Caduceus spent a few breaths marveling at it, then he asked, “Is life always this directionless?”

“Kind of...I guess.” Fjord dragged his fingers through the sand, then smoothed out the marks he made. “But you have a direction, you just don’t know where it’s heading.”

“I have a goal. That feels different.” 

“Well...sometimes you have to make a few mistakes and go down paths that are wrong in order to find the right one. Right?” 

Caduceus considered this for a moment. “It feels like there’s a lot at stake to leave it up to trial and error,” he replied. 

“That’s fair,” Fjord said, and went quiet again. The waves danced below them. The stars swirled above them. Fjord copied Caduceus’ position, resting back against the cool sand. 

“Have you ever seen a shooting star?” 

“I think so...but we call them something different.” 

“Meteors?” 

“Yeah.” 

Fjord nodded. “Keep an eye out. They’re fairly common this time of year. You can wish on them.” 

Caduceus blinked. There were so many stars, so much distant, ancient light shining down on them. They were lucky the almost-full moon hadn’t risen enough to wash them out. 

“I’ve never felt this alone.” Caduceus said, surprising himself. The words faded into the rush of waves. Fjord was quiet for a long moment. Caduceus worried that he’d finally asked too much of Fjord. He inhaled to apologize, but Fjord interrupted. 

“You’re not alone. For what it’s worth, I’m here. I want to be here for you. If there’s anything I can do, just ask.” 

Something rose in Caduceus, a not-wholly-unpleasant tension that threatened to spill over. He breathed through it until he could speak. “That means a lot, Fjord. Thank you.” 

Fjord hummed. Caduceus heard him shift and thought, maybe, that he felt the faintest bump of Fjord’s hand against his. 

“What about you?” Caduceus asked, clearing his throat. “You said you didn’t want to be a pirate. What do you want?” 

Fjord sighed so heavily that Caduceus turned to look at him. 

“Sorry,” Fjord laughed, covering his face with his hands. “Wow, uh, didn’t mean for that to be so...wow.” He rested his hands on his chest and stared up at the sky. 

“It’s just...my whole life I’ve been searching for something that was taken from me as a kid," he explained. "Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve ever wanted has been tied to getting this thing back. But Avantika is my last lead and I’m not sure I can see it through. It breaks my heart to think of giving up, but at this point...I can’t keep going.” 

Caduceus frowned. “What are you looking for? Maybe I can help.” 

“That’s kind of you,” Fjord said, resigned, “but I don’t think so.” 

“Is it an heirloom?” 

“It’s...a piece of me.” 

Caduceus propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at Fjord. Fjord closed his eyes. A light caught Caduceus’ attention; he looked to the heavens just in time to see the parting blink of a shooting star. One chance for a wish. 

_Let him get what he wants._

Caduceus looked back down at Fjord and found Fjord watching him. He expected Fjord look away, but Fjord’s gold eyes stayed steady on Caduceus. Caduceus reached up, slow and gentle, to right the streak of white hair that had fallen across Fjord’s brow. Fjord closed his eyes again. Caduceus traced the scar over his eye and down the line of his jaw. Fjord exhaled shakily and turned his face into the touch. Caduceus’ breath skipped in his chest. 

Something exploded behind them—a low boom followed by a sharp crack that echoed through the dark. Fjord scrambled to his feet. Caduceus twisted to see fire rising above the rooftops. Fjord cursed.

By the time they reached town the fire had spread to half a dozen clusters. Smoke sat heavy in the night air and the crackle of flames was pierced by screams. 

“Fuck. I have to find Avantika,” Fjord said. Magic swelled in his palm and then he was holding a sword crowned with barnacles and dripping with seawater—a few droplets of which splattered on Caduceus’ wrist. 

“The beach is the safest place to be right now,” Fjord said, turning to Caduceus as he started toward the fires. “I’ll come find you after.” 

Caduceus reached for him. “Fjord, wait-” 

Fjord turned and ran into the confusion of shadows and smoke. Caduceus grit his teeth. He gathered himself to follow but stopped short when a house down the street burst into flame. He watched, transfixed, as the fire leapt from the roof to the walls and devoured half the building in an instant, terrible and insatiable and unstoppable.

The droplet of water on Caduceus’ wrist was piercingly cold. 

Caduceus shook himself out of his daze. He smeared the water with his thumb and spoke an incantation with a shaking voice. A single storm cloud appeared above the burning house, depositing enough rain to extinguish the flames. Caduceus stood rooted for a moment, his breath rapid and shallow in his chest, both hoping and dreading that he would see signs of life. Nothing in the charred house moved. Caduceus stumbled on. 

He followed the direction Fjord had gone, pausing to help extinguish fires or send his beetles to lead groups of people from the smokey alleys to the safety of the beach. He grew more confident with each fire he dodged. There were fewer people as he headed into the heart of Nicodranas. The flames were farther off and in the absence of their snapping voices Caduceus could hear the sounds of fighting. He doubled his pace, tripping over discarded mugs and garlands as he went until a square opened before him, revealing Fjord and Avantika and the statue of the spirit burning on its platform. 

A blast of magic whistled above Caduceus’ head, driving him to duck behind the cover of the nearest house. Something _shrieked_. Fjord and Avantika both turned to face the noise, scattering as an opaque form swooped down, talons bared. 

The spirit took aim at Fjord, opening its mouth wide to shoot balls of white fire that Fjord just managed to dodge. Fjord popped back up to his feet and slashed at the spirit with his falchion as it passed over him.

The spirit fell, writhing. Its long tail lashed out to knock Avantika prone before it lunged at Fjord again. Fjord disappeared, then reappeared closer to Avantika and fired two jets of eldritch magic at the spirit. Avantika struggled to the base of the statue, braving the flames licking up the sides as she drove a knife into the statue’s center. The spirit wailed. It dove at Fjord, slashing its talons across his neck as it reached for Avantika. Fjord staggered. Avantika threw more magic at the spirit, buying herself enough time to hack at the statue.

Caduceus saw something yellow glint in the statue’s heart.

Fjord rushed toward the statue. Caduceus saw Avantika tense. The spirit loomed over both of them, gathering its energy. Fjord shouted something to Avantika that sounded like a warning, but Avantika shoved her hand into the statue at the same moment the spirit dove. 

Energy rippled through the cobblestones, throwing Caduceus off balance. A great wind rushed through the city, screaming through the flames still dancing between buildings.

And then the square was quiet. 

Avantika was on her knees, cradling her fist close to her chest. Caduceus could hear her gasping breaths. 

“What the fuck was that!?” Fjord demanded, also breathless. “This wasn’t the plan!” 

“I could not execute _the plan_ because you were not here!” Avantika snapped. She glared up at Fjord. “If you had stayed close like you were supposed to then I would not have had to harm the spirit.”

“There were other ways—we could have waited-” Fjord stammered. Avantika snarled. She got to her feet, one hand still tucked close to her chest. Caduceus could see blood trickling down her arm. 

“Is he really more important than our mission?” She spat, making sure each word stung. “Would he even stick around if he knew what you are?” 

Fjord bristled. “This isn’t what I agreed to.” 

“I thought you were stronger than this. You want your prize, don’t you? Then you can’t keep disappointing us!”

Caduceus had heard enough. He jogged into the square, panting as if he’d run from the edge of town. Fjord and Avantika both startled at his appearance. Avantika turned her back to him, hiding her hand. Fjord stepped off the platform to meet Caduceus. 

“What are you doing here? Are you okay?” He asked, his frown deep with worry as he scanned Caduceus for injuries.

“Oh, yes,” Caduceus assured. He bent over, propping his hands on his knees and breathing hard to complete the charade. “What happened to you guys?” 

“Uh…” Fjord blinked. The sword vanished from his side. “Nothing.” 

Caduceus straightened. “You’re bleeding,” he pointed out. 

Fjord touched the wound on his neck. “Oh. Right. I got hit with some debris while trying to...put out the statue…”

“I’ll see you on the ship, Fjord,” Avantika called before ducking into the shadows. Fjord sighed. He scrubbed his hands over his face, wincing when the motion pulled at his injury. 

Caduceus frowned. “Come on, sit down.” He directed Fjord to sit on the edge of the platform. The statue smoldered behind them. Fjord was still and silent while Caduceus inspected his wound. 

“I can heal this. Is that okay?” 

Fjord nodded. Caduceus spread his hand over the gashes left by the spirit’s talons and channeled the last of his magic into knitting Fjord’s skin back together. He let his hand remain when the magic had faded. Fjord’s eyes were closed. 

“Fjord,” Caduceus said quietly, drawing his thumb gently across Fjord’s jaw. “I saw what you were fighting. Can you tell me what happened?” 

Fjord flinched. He moved out of reach and stared at the ground. “It’s...complicated,” he said. “I know it looks bad but I promise I won’t let her hurt anyone else.” 

Caduceus resisted the urge to follow him. He folded his hands in his lap instead. “This seems like something you shouldn’t do alone.” 

“I have to.” 

“You don’t,” Caduceus said firmly. “I’m telling you right now that you don’t. I haven’t known you long but I have some faith in you, Fjord. You’re a good man. You don’t deserve to be someone else’s collateral damage.”

Fjord stood. He straightened his armor and glanced at the shadows where Avantika had vanished. “You don’t understand.” 

“No,” Caduceus agreed, impatience bleeding into his voice. “But you can tell me. Whatever you’ve done, whatever secrets you’re keeping, I won’t judge you. I want to help.” 

Fjord closed his eyes again. “It’s my problem. I can handle it.” 

Caduceus huffed, exhaustion and shock fueling his frustration. “Fine,” he said as he stood. “Sleep well with your bad decisions.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for getting through this monster chapter! It's definitely the longest of the bunch but it just didn't take well to being cut up. I promise this is the last time poor Cad has awful nightmares. The ice cream made up for it?
> 
> Pieces of the Gladys dialogue are from the episode and not my own. Nor is the final line, obviously. 
> 
> Next up: The boys have a heart-to-heart. 
> 
> (I should maybe have mentioned this earlier but I have only watched up to E...44..? of CR. I don't think that affects anything really, reading wise? But there's my disclaimer in case something is jumping out as weird.)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains canon amount of Avantika manipulating Fjord into things he doesn't really want to do, mostly in the form of my take on the balcony scene (with similar fade to black). Skip to the second double space to avoid it.

Fjord took his time retreating to the Squalleater. The night closed in around him; the noise of the festival and the fight faded away under the pulse of waves until the ocean was all he could hear as he stepped aboard the ship. 

“She wants to see you,” Vera greeted without stirring from her watch post. 

Fjord grumbled his thanks, then turned toward the crew’s quarters instead of heeding Avantika’s summons. 

It was quiet below deck. Most of the crew were taking advantage of the night of revelry and weren’t expected back until morning. Fjord dropped onto his bunk with a sigh. He reached up to touch the newly healed scars on his neck and found a light crust of lichen still clinging to him. He left it alone. Regret sat heavy in his chest. 

He’d fucked up so bad. Not only had Avantika gotten the crystal, but the water spirit was dead _and_ Fjord had managed to drive away the only person in his recent memory who had been kind to him. 

Not that it wasn’t inevitable. Avantika was right; Caduceus was good, and gentle, and he believed in a bright future, but he would take back everything he’d said if he knew what Fjord truly was.

Fjord rubbed his temples. His head throbbed in time to the waves that rocked the boat; the pull of the sea was always so much stronger near the full moon. High tide wrecked Fjord’s mind like floodwaters: the waves beat a ceaseless rhythm behind his eyes, beckoning, pleading, singing him lovely songs in a language that this body didn’t understand. Being with Caduceus had made it easier to concentrate, but now the haze was impossible to block out.

Fjord turned his back to the sea and curled in on himself. He waited as long as he dared, then he rose, pulled all of the stubborn, wayward pieces of himself back into a semblance of composure, and went to meet his captain. 

Avantika was waiting on the balcony outside her quarters. Fjord glanced up at the shrine above the door as he entered; a replica of Uk’otoa’s eye stared down at him from the shadows. 

“Come see,” Avantika beckoned, though she didn’t turn to look at Fjord as he crossed the room. Avantika lifted her hands and a pillar of water rose from the sea, twisting and warping at Avantika’s bidding. Fjord inhaled sharply. 

“Is that because of the crystal?” 

“Yes,” Avantika said, grinning. “And this is only a fraction of my power. The potential is dizzying! Don’t you want that?” 

Fjord hummed, a non-answer, but Avantika was too distracted to be angry with him. She thinned the water until she could break its connection with the ocean, then held the remainder aloft as a slow spinning orb. 

“He can do so much for you,” Avantika said. “With your connection to the water, with the magic in your blood, Fjord, there’s no limit to your capabilities. You just have to let him in.” 

“I have,” Fjord defended. 

Avantika cast him a knowing glance. “You’re afraid. You shouldn’t be. This is your path. You’re chosen. You’re special.” 

Fjord rubbed the center of his chest. His skin prickled; everything in him screamed a warning but he ignored it. What was he supposed to do? It was his fault Avantika has these powers. He couldn’t run away from his mistakes. 

Avantika looked at him. Her eyes were bright as she condensed the water into a fist-sized ball, then stretched out like a snake. The water was a willing partner, a formidable new weapon.

“You’ve come so far,” Avantika crooned as she sent the water to curl around Fjord’s shoulders. Fjord made himself stand firm. Avantika continued, either unaware of or unconcerned by Fjord’s discomfort—he was never sure. “Who would have guessed that the unwanted orphan boy was destined for such greatness?” 

Fjord kept his expression neutral. Avantika let the water circle his waist, tugging him closer to her. 

“We have so much more to accomplish together,” she promised. 

“One thing at a time,” Fjord said, smothering his urge to flee. He didn’t flinch when Avantika approached him but he shivered when she placed her hands on his chest. Her skin hummed with magic, though she had never needed magic to make Fjord feel small. 

“Very well,” she purred. She sent the water to extinguish the candles, casting the room into darkness. 

Later, Fjord stood on the deck and watched dawn turn the sky pink. He felt too big for his skin. His heart beat too loudly against his ribs. He was too warm, despite the chill of night lingering in the air. He could still smell smoke, faintly, from the houses that had burned as part of Avantika's distraction—another ruined thing that he was to blame for. 

Fjord had tried so hard his entire life to just blend in, to be vigilant for people who would hurt him, to have some purpose but not call too much attention to himself. How had he gotten here? Could he make any of it right?

Uk’otoa made promises—vague, heavy promises—but Fjord wasn’t an idiot. He could feel the direction this quest was going in; he understood that an entity like Uk’otoa didn’t get banished and bound without a good reason. He wasn’t sure if Avantika didn’t believe that or if she truly didn’t care. 

Fjord picked at his tusks, idle but relentless, until he remembered Caduceus’ voice. 

_I never found much to gain from hiding who I am._

Fjord curled his hands into fists. He would like nothing more than to dive off the ship and let the water take him. His heart wanted to go home; after all these years it still hadn’t accepted that he couldn’t. He was stuck. The only time he’d felt differently was. Well. With Caduceus.

Caduceus didn’t look at Fjord with the suspicion or scorn Fjord expected from strangers. He didn’t look at Fjord with Avantika’s hunger. He looked at Fjord like he cared. 

And had anyone ever really _cared_ about what happened to Fjord? A giant sea serpent cared—apparently, maybe. Avantika cared, sort of, but Fjord knew that would last only as long as he was on her side. Vandran had cared, in his own way, perhaps, but he was gone.

Fjord ground his forehead into the heel of his hand. He couldn’t think straight; the ocean was too loud. He took a deep breath. 

What would Vandran do? 

He’d tell Fjord to be a man and stop moping, for one. He’d buckle down and figure out how to keep Avantika from the third crystal and then he’d follow through. No fuss, just doing what needed to be done.

Fjord sighed. Indecision gnawed at him. He leaned against the ship railing and ran his hand over the familiar wood. A shadow on the water caught his attention. He looked up as an osprey sailed overhead, its long wings brushing the foremast before it flew toward the forest on the other side of town. Fjord watched it go. Resolve hardened in his gut. 

~*~

Caduceus nursed a cup of bitter tea. The water must have been too hot when the cook poured it because it tasted of burnt leaves, but Caduceus was grateful for the comfort of a warm mug in his hands.

He was still reeling from the previous night and was waiting to see if the breakfast he’d eaten would give him enough energy to commit to leaving Nicodranas today. It was early and the inn was mercifully quiet as most of the town slept off their festival hangovers. The few patrons who had joined Caduceus in the dining room spoke quietly amongst themselves. Caduceus caught mentions of fire, a desecrated statue, and something brewing out at sea. 

He took a sip of tea and grimaced. He was about to return to his room to check that he hadn’t forgotten to pack anything when the front door swung open, revealing a familiar figure. 

Fjord was panting. 

“Can I help you, sir?” The innkeeper asked, her voice guarded. Fjord glanced around the dining room until he spotted Caduceus, who blinked, owlish. 

“It’s okay,” Caduceus told the innkeeper. “I know him.” 

The innkeeper nodded, but she watched Fjord carefully as he made his way to Caduceus’ table. 

“Hi. Um. Sorry, I don’t have much time before someone notices I’m gone,” Fjord said once he’d caught his breath. “I was afraid you’d already left, so, it’s really good to see you. Ah. Look, if you don’t want to talk to me I understand, I won’t bother you, but I’ve been thinking about what you said and...you deserve an explanation.”

“Okay…” 

Fjord rubbed the back of his neck. “Not now, I can’t stay. Tonight? At Rinaldo’s?”

Caduceus nodded. Fjord relaxed, just for a moment, then he straightened. 

“Thank you,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight.” 

~*~

Caduceus left the inn at sunset and walked through the streets of Nicodranas as if in a dream. It seemed impossible that hours ago the city had been alive with light and laughter. All that remained as evidence of the festivities were a few wilted garlands and battered cups caught in uncleaned street corners, and solemn barriers had been erected around the charred rubble of buildings that had burned through the night. Caduceus walked extra carefully past the ruins, remembering the noise and the heat of flames. 

The sand at the edge of town was warm, so Caduceus stepped out of his shoes and carried them as he trod the familiar path to Rinaldo’s dock. The moon was wreathed in clouds, but pockets of stars twinkled above the inky sea.

Fjord was already there. He sat with his legs dangling off the edge of the dock, the water just out of his reach. As Caduceus got closer he noticed something strange about the waves. 

They were glowing. 

“Hi,” Fjord greeted when Caduceus settled down beside him. Globules of blue-white light bobbed in the sea, rising and falling with the pull of the tide. 

“What is that?” Caduceus asked, awestruck. 

Fjord smiled. “Moon jellyfish. They light up to attract prey and scare off predators.”

“They’re beautiful, like fireflies but wet.” 

“I suppose so,” Fjord said. Caduceus shifted to sit cross-legged, close enough on the narrow dock that his knee brushed Fjord’s. 

“Thank you for coming,” Fjord said. He stared at the galaxy of jellyfish and took a deep breath, and another, and one more when the first two weren’t enough. 

Caduceus watched him, steady and patient. Fjord closed his eyes. When he finally spoke, his words tumbled out of him like a dam breaking. 

“The thing that was taken from me as a kid..it’s my sealskin. I can’t get home without it; I can’t be, uh, me, I guess. But I never wanted anyone to get hurt. I told Avantika there were hard limits to what I was willing to do, but she ignored them and just kept moving the posts to make the things she—we—did not seem so bad. I never should have agreed to stealing from the spirit. I know that doesn’t change anything. I feel awful and I’m done with Avantika; as soon as I can figure out how to neutralize her, I’m gone. ” 

Caduceus was stunned into silence. He could see the tension in Fjord’s shoulders and jaw multiply as the seconds ticked by, so he scrambled for words.

“You’re...a selkie?”

Fjord nodded, small and wary, every part of him ready to flee or fight. 

“Okay,” Caduceus said gently. “What happened?” 

Fjord took another deep, trembling breath. 

“I got separated from my parents during a storm when I was young,” he said, slower but still cautious. “I washed up on shore and by the time I woke up I’d...changed. The fisherman who found me took my sealskin and hid it. He brought me back to his hut for a few days and tried to get me to tell him about buried treasure and shipwrecks and stuff like that. I didn’t even understand Common; I had no idea what he wanted. Once he realized I wasn’t useful to him he brought me to the Driftwood Asylum and I was stuck there until I was old enough to go out on my own. 

“Once I was out, I was able to track down that fisherman, but he’d died several years earlier and there was no record of what had happened to his belongings. I spent a few weeks panicking, then I decided to just...pretend I was normal. I thought going to the Soltryce Academy would help. When it didn’t, I went back to what I knew. I got lucky; Vandran had a sick crew member and needed a replacement. I thought being on the sea would be the next best thing to being home but it hurts so much—being that close without ever truly being able to reach it.” 

Fjord rubbed at the new scars on his neck. “Then I, uh, got to a pretty dark place. Anyone else would have just fired me but Vandran didn’t. I eventually broke down and told him the truth and he promised to help me track my sealskin down. We were following a promising lead when Sabian sank the ship. I really thought I was going to die that night. Then I saw something in the water. I don’t remember exactly, but I know it talked to me, and I woke up on shore with this sword.” 

Fjord opened his hand, careful to keep enough space between himself and Caduceus that the summoned blade wouldn’t harm him. Caduceus startled when the falchion appeared in Fjord’s hand. Now that he had time to look at it he could see the cloven crystal set into the hilt. The slit pupil seemed to follow him as Fjord set the sword on the dock.

“It’s attached to something called Uk’otoa. Avantika recognized the sword when I first met her. Long story short, she told me that if we find three of these orbs,” Fjord tapped the crystal, “then Uk’otoa will reward me with my sealskin.” 

“Is that true?” 

Fjord shrugged. “Sometimes I see it in my dreams, and Uk’otoa did promise a reward, but things have gotten so out of hand since I first started sailing with Avantika. I have one crystal, um, in my chest? I think? There was a second one in that statue. I meant to prevent Avantika from getting it but I messed that up.” He paused to gently stir the jellyfish with his foot, swirling their cosmos tighter. 

“If she gets all three she’s going to bring Uk’otoa back from wherever it’s trapped now and I can only assume that would be disastrous.” 

Caduceus was barely keeping up. “So...she has one, you have one; do you know where the third crystal is?” 

“No, and I don’t think Avantika has an exact idea either, that’s part of why we’ve been in port so long,” Fjord replied. “But Avantika is smart and ruthless. She won’t stop until she gets what she wants.” 

“Wow.” Caduceus leaned back on his hands, his mind whirring as he processed everything Fjord had said. 

“I told you it was complicated,” Fjord joked weakly. He banished the sword. The jellyfish flared in response to the magic. “I’m really sorry about all of this,” Fjord continued. “But I’m not collateral damage; I’m part of it. I’m not proud of that, but I’m trying to make it right.” 

“Oh, Fjord.” Caduceus reached out, resting his hand on Fjord’s shoulder. Fjord shuddered, but he didn’t move away. 

“I can’t imagine what it’s been like, carrying all of this around by yourself,” Caduceus said. He squeezed Fjord’s shoulder and scooted close enough for Fjord to subtly lean back against him, letting Caduceus take some of his weight. 

“Let me ask the Wildmother for help,” Caduceus murmured, drawing slow circles over Fjord’s back. “It’s not a guarantee, but it’s something.” 

Fjord hummed, unconvinced. “I didn’t tell you this to drag you deeper into it,” he said. “I got myself into this mess and I don’t want you getting hurt trying to get me out. Avantika can’t do anything without the crystal inside me. Worst comes to worst, I’ll just disappear.” 

“And live life on the run?” 

“There are worse fates,” Fjord said. 

Caduceus shook his head. “I’m your friend. I want to do what I can. You don’t have to be alone in this.” 

Fjord didn’t know what to do with that. 

They sat for a while longer, then lay down on the dock, neither of them quite ready to part. Caduceus watched the clouds drift across the sky and thought about everything Fjord had told him. 

_I thought I was going to die. Then I saw something in the water._

The memory of Caduceus' dream flooded back to him: cold depths, black tentacles, an eye, a question, hands that had not been his own. He turned to look at Fjord, who had fallen asleep with his face turned heavenward. Had Caduceus been seeing what Fjord saw? Was that possible?

They were big questions, too big for Caduceus to wrestle with at such a late hour. The rhythm of Fjord’s breathing, coupled with the warm night and the whisper of waves against the shore lulled Caduceus close to sleep. 

Caduceus woke abruptly when Fjord cried out. He sat up to see Fjord twisted on his side, his eyes glassy, his expression pained as he coughed up water like he’d been drowning. 

“Is this normal??” Caduceus asked, grabbing Fjord to keep him from writhing off the edge of the dock.

“Nope,” Fjord gasped. “No, this is new and awful. Fuck.” He curled in on himself, pulling everything toward his heart as he fought to regain his breath. Caduceus was at a loss. He kept his hand on Fjord’s shoulder, hoping to be an anchor if nothing else. When Fjord’s breathing slowed he turned his face into his arm and muttered, wearily, “Does that Wildmother offer still stand?” 

~*~

Caduceus considered sneaking back to the lighthouse to perform the ritual, but the sting of the quiet he’d found there was still fresh, so he headed to the woods at the first light of dawn.

He settled down under the shade of the pines, accompanied by songbirds and the timeless creak of the trees. He cleared a space in the sandy soil before him and set his offerings: a sprig of juniper, a smooth seashell, the last of his holy water from home. He wasn’t taking any chances; he couldn’t afford silence this time. 

The incense caught easily, shedding fragrant smoke that wound into Caduceus’ senses. Caduceus propped them up on the shell and closed his eyes, focusing on breathing in time to the trees around him, waiting for the familiar spark of connection. 

A warm breeze stirred his hair, though the rest of the forest was still. Caduceus exhaled, relieved. 

“This isn’t for me,” he said. “It’s for my friend. He needs help; he could be in very grave danger if something doesn’t change.” 

The breeze moved across Caduceus’ shoulders, inviting, encouraging. Caduceus took his time, reining in his nerves and perfecting his questions before he asked them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! Big reveal ft. some of my favorite jellyfish. Thank you for getting through another long chapter. 
> 
> If all goes well this should be complete by the end of July at the latest! There are 2 or 3 more chapters depending on how I break them up. I'm trying to rein in my eagerness to make sure I'm editing these final parts as thoroughly as they deserve, and I have some bonus stuff to post at the end that I'm sorting out too. 
> 
> Next up: The Wildmother's answer and an appearance by Pirate Cad (a.k.a Cornelius).


	10. Chapter 10

Heat radiated from everything: the dock, the reflection of sun off the water, the people Caduceus passed as he ran. Caduceus' tunic stuck to him uncomfortably and he had to blink against the sweat that dripped down his brow but he didn’t dare stop until he stood before the Squalleater. He had to tip his head back to gaze up at its towering masts. Its wide sails hung loose and lazy in the still air. 

Vera peered over the side of the ship at Caduceus, who did not react quickly enough to wave at her before she rolled her eyes and turned away. 

“Quartermaster,” she called, hailing Fjord from where he and Avantika were pouring over a map outside of her quarters. Fjord looked up. Vera jerked her thumb toward the dock.

“You have a visitor.” 

“I’m sorry,” Caduceus said when Fjord met him on the dock. “I know I shouldn’t have come but I couldn’t wait. I didn’t want you to leave. I got an answer.” 

Fjord’s eyes widened, but he turned his head slightly to catch the sound of Avantika stepping up to the railing. He could feel her gaze burning into him. 

“We’re not going anywhere for a few more days, especially with no wind,” Fjord assured. “I’ll come to the inn tonight, okay?” 

Caduceus nodded. Before Fjord turned to leave, Caduceus caught hold of his wrist, keeping him just long enough to cast Bless. It wouldn’t do much, but Caduceus had to do _something._ Fjord blinked at him, perplexed. 

“Be careful,” Caduceus urged. 

Fjord frowned. Avantika cleared her throat impatiently. 

~*~

Fjord was late. It was almost midnight and Caduceus was the only one left in the dining room. He was kept company by the fire in the hearth, though he’d let the flames dwindle—they deserved to rest. 

Caduceus should be exhausted, but there were too many thoughts swimming in his head for weariness to take root. He couldn’t stop replaying his dreams from the past weeks. He’d taken them as a sign to return home, but maybe Wildmother was trying to tell him the opposite. He had asked Her to show him where he was needed; maybe She’d been doing that this whole time. 

There was a knock at the door—the innkeeper had locked it when she retired and told Caduceus not to let in any “murderers, marauders, or otherwise malevolent miscreants”—it took Caduceus a few moments to remember he was the only one present to answer it. 

Caduceus cracked the door and peered out into the night. Fjord was standing on the doorstep, glancing warily at the street behind him. Caduceus opened the door wide.

“I was starting to get worried,” he said. Fjord startled, then offered Caduceus an apologetic smile.

“Sorry. It was hard to get away; I tried, I swear.” 

“I hope I didn’t make it worse?” 

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” 

Caduceus led Fjord up to his room and sat on the bed as Fjord looked around. 

“This is nicer than I expected,” Fjord commented.

“I’ll take your word for it.” 

Fjord huffed, an almost-laugh. He walked a slow lap around the room before coming to perch on the edge of the bed, facing Caduceus. 

“So…” he said. 

Caduceus smiled. “She showed me your sealskin. It’s here, in Nicodranas.” 

Fjord frowned. “What? Where?” 

“On a ship.” Caduceus closed his eyes to better recall the images the Wildmother had shown him. “In a room with...lots of windows, and a balcony, and a heavy desk, and there’s some kind of odd shrine over the door.” 

Fjord’s breath caught in his chest. 

Caduceus opened his eyes. “Do you know it?” 

Fjord nodded shakily. “That’s...that’s the Squalleater. Those are Avantika’s quarters.” 

Caduceus hummed. “I was afraid of that. But also hoping for it, if that makes sense.” 

Fjord stood up and paced to the window. “Are you sure that’s what you saw?” He asked. “I didn’t...I haven’t described that room to you, have I? You’re not misremembering?” 

“I’m sure.” 

Fjord crossed the room again. He curled one hand around the solid wood footboard. “How is that possible?” he asked. “I’ve been on that ship for a year. I would have known.”

“I’m sure it’s hidden very well,” Caduceus reassured. “I didn’t see where, exactly. I just know it’s in that room.” 

Fjord sat down. He picked at a callus on his hand, digging his claw in hard enough that it made Caduceus grimace. 

“Fjord,” Caduceus said to draw his attention. He smiled when Fjord looked at him. “We’ll get it back,” he promised. “Is there a way to sneak into her quarters?”

Fjord sighed. He released his grip on his hand and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. 

“Avantika is leaving tomorrow to get some supplies from further inland. She won’t be back until the next day. It still won’t be easy, but it would be our best chance.” 

“I can disguise myself,” Caduceus offered. 

“Really?” 

Caduceus nodded. “It’s useful when people aren’t necessarily receptive to, well,” he gestured to himself, tall and pink and covered in either beetles or lichen depending on the day. 

“That could work…” Fjord sat up. “I could say you’re a potential hire and I’m showing you around the ship."

“I have a spell I can use to pinpoint the location; I just need to be close-ish.” 

“I can do that,” Fjord said. “And if anyone asks you questions just say as little as possible. When in doubt, don’t say anything.” 

“I can do that.” 

Fjord turned to face Caduceus again, folding one leg under him while letting the other remain grounded. They shared a long moment of quiet. 

“I trust you,” Fjord said eventually. “But… Just once more; are you sure?” 

“She’s never lied to me before.” 

Fjord considered that. Then he nodded and sighed. “Okay. Thank you.” 

“What are you going to do once you have it?” 

Fjord laughed—a harried, unsettled sound—and raked his hand through his hair. “You know, I’m not sure. I’ve been searching for it for so long with such little hope of actually finding it and now…” He shook his head. “I don’t know. Let’s not jinx it.” 

“Jinx…”

“Uh, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Wait until we actually have it to think about what happens next.” 

“Oh, yes. That’s a good idea.” 

Fjord hummed, turned, and flopped down on the bed. “Sorry for keeping you up,” he said, rubbing his face. “I’m just—this is a lot. I need a minute, then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Take your time,” Caduceus said, and tried to ignore the honey-sweet thought of Fjord staying. Just for a night. Just to keep him safe. 

“You don’t have to go back if you don’t want to,” Caduceus said before the wiser part of his brain could stop him. Fjord turned his head and raised an eyebrow. 

“To the ship, I mean,” Caduceus explained. He thought he saw Fjord flush, but it was hard to tell in the candlelight. “It’s late. I don’t mind. You can have the bed.” 

Fjord blinked at him. He sat up and smiled—a little shy, a little sad. 

“I would like that very much,” he said. “But I don’t want to raise any more suspicion.” 

“Right, of course. It was a bad idea.” Caduceus stared at his hands folded in his lap. 

“That’s not-” Fjord stopped, then started again. “I would if I could. Avantika’s just too dangerous.” 

Caduceus looked up at him and oh, Fjord was definitely blushing. He could see the effort Fjord took to hold Caduceus’ gaze, to not hide from it. Fjord smiled at him, nervous but honest. 

“I understand,” Caduceus assured. Fjord exhaled. Caduceus could see him slowly piecing himself back together, planning, preparing. 

“I’ll see you at the docks then,” Fjord said as he stood. “Avantika should be gone by midday.” 

“Okay. I’ll use a pirate name. Maybe Cornelius? What about a last name? Hm. Tealeaf? Is that too strange?” 

Fjord chuckled. “Last names don’t matter too much with this lot, thankfully. Cornelius is great. Sleep well Caduceus.” 

“You too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters to go! (I think) 
> 
> Next up: A plan, a kiss, and high tide.


	11. Chapter 11

Caduceus felt naked without his armor, which was odd since he hadn’t worn it all that much before leaving the Blooming Grove. Had he really changed that much in a few weeks? It was also odd because he was technically still wearing it, but it was hidden under the illusion of a simple tunic and vest he’d chosen for his human alter.

Caduceus cast the spell in a quiet alley, mindful of the time limit before he would have to recast it. Once he’d settled into his temporary form and shouldered the bag he’d brought to carry a healer’s kit (just in case) and components, he turned down the docks, drawing only cursory glances from the sailors he passed. He paused beside a ship called The Mist, per Fjord’s instructions, and did his best to look like he belonged there. 

He didn’t have to wait long. Fjord strolled around the corner, moving quietly and unobtrusively through the crowd until Caduceus waved at him. Fjord narrowed his eyes. 

“Uh...Cornelius?” 

“Yep.” Caduceus beamed. “Not bad, huh?” 

“It’s...quite impressive,” Fjord affirmed. “Are you ready?” 

“After you.” 

Caduceus’ first thought upon setting foot on the Squalleater was that it seemed smaller that it appeared from the dock. It dwarfed even Rinadlo’s largest boat, but the expanse of the deck seemed inadequate, somehow, for the length of time an entire crew had to spend on it. 

“We might have to walk around for a bit, but folks should head off for lunch soon,” Fjord whispered. Caduceus nodded. 

“Who is this?” 

Fjord and Caduceus turned to face Vera as she strode up to Fjord. The few crew members in earshot paused to observe. 

“A potential addition,” Fjord said. “I’m just showing him around.” 

Vera crossed her arms. “I didn’t realize we were hiring.” 

Fjord leveled her with a cool gaze. “If you’re unhappy with how the Captain runs things, I’m sure she’d be happy to discuss her methods with you when she returns.” 

Vera scowled. She stood aside, but Caduceus could feel her watching them as Fjord led him around the ship. 

Fjord showed Caduceus the upper deck, then they descended to the galley, the living quarters and the gun deck, killing time and putting on a show for the crew who peered curiously at them when they passed. Most of what Fjord said sailed hopelessly over Caduceus’ head, but Caduceus enjoyed listening to him and seeing the ease with which he moved about this space, as limited as it was. A ship might not be Fjord's true home, but it was clear he'd made it one. 

“Okay,” Fjord said once they’d exhausted the lower decks. “It sounds quiet. Let’s go.” 

The top deck was empty and quiet save for the slow flap of sails in the wind. Fjord led Caduceus quickly towards Avantika’s quarters but hesitated after he opened the door to let Caduceus slip inside. 

“I’m gonna wait for just a few minutes to make sure nobody’s going to come surround the door or something,” he whispered. Caduceus nodded. He closed the door behind him and blinked as he was suddenly alone in the captain’s cabin. 

He pivoted to take in the whole room. Everything was exactly as the Wildmother had shown him: the tiled windows, the cluttered desk, the shelves packed with leather-bound tomes and dark, curious idols. The bed, hastily made. Caduceus tried, and failed, not to imagine Fjord and Avantika here: her hands on him, crowding him the way she had at the tavern that first night. 

Fjord entered the room, easing the door shut with practiced control. “It seems okay for now, but we don’t have long,” he warned. 

“Right.” Caduceus shook his head to clear it. _Focus._ He pulled a forked twig of pitch pine from his bag and concentrated. Magic pulsed through him, spreading his awareness into every nook and cranny within range. Caduceus kept the sealskin at the front of his mind, waiting for a beacon to lead him to its hiding place.

The spell faded. 

Nothing happened. 

Caduceus opened his eyes to see Fjord watching him, holding his breath. His face fell when he saw Caduceus’ expression. 

“She must have it warded somehow,” Caduceus said. “Let me try another spell.” 

He cast detect magic with a flick of his wrist and a muttered word. The room around him lit up. Caduceus inhaled, overwhelmed by the assault of magical signatures. Fjord moved toward him. 

“It’s okay," Caduceus muttered, blinking hard against the chaos of auras. "Just give me a minute." 

Caduceus moved slowly around the room, sorting through the layers of warding spells and old rituals and stolen items. He realized it would take him too long to inspect each source, so he switched tactics. 

He looked for quiet. 

He ran his hand along the wall, easing toward a blank spot near the middle of the room. He could hear whispers of the trees used to build this boat. He implored them for help and they pulled him to Avantika’s desk. 

_Deeper_ , they urged. So Caduceus dropped to his knees and felt along the base of the desk. 

“Can you move this?” He asked dazedly, his head full of old voices. Fjord braced his shoulder against the desk and pushed until Caduceus saw a flaw in the wood grain of the floor.

“This is almost certainly trapped,” Caduceus warned when Fjord crouched beside him and traced the outline of a small trapdoor. 

Fjord thought for a minute, then summoned the falchion. Caduceus flinched. The blade was wreathed in shadow that curled up Fjord's arm as he collected the seawater in his hand. 

Fjord set the blade aside. He spread his other palm over his open hand, closed his eyes, and tried to channel the kind of control Avantika had exerted over the water. 

Caduceus watched, his eyes heavy with magic, as Fjord failed and struggled again and again.

And then the water rose into a small, imperfect orb. 

“Get out of range,” Fjord commanded in a whisper, not able to spare any more concentration.

Caduceus scooted back.

Fjord exhaled and the water formed into a thin blade. He sent it between the boards, easing through the mechanism underneath. Fjord could feel the contours of the trap as if the water was connected to his own nerves. It took everything he had to keep his focus and find the latch. 

The door popped open with a soft click. 

Fjord dropped the water and fell back, gasping. Caduceus was at his side in an instant. 

“I’m okay,” Fjord assured, his eyes wide. “I’ve just never—I didn’t think I could control it like that.” He felt like he was going to be sick, but he carefully removed the top of the secret compartment, reached down, and pulled out what looked like a large grey-brown cloak. Caduceus noted the thin sheet of lead lining the compartment.

Fjord turned the garment over in his hands, then laid it across his lap and let out a weak, breathless laugh. 

“Is this it?” Caduceus asked gently. Fjord nodded. He scrubbed tears from his eyes and leaned into his hands as he struggled to keep himself together. “This whole time. It was right under my feet. I’ve—I’ve stood here, I spent so many nights...I had no idea.” 

Caduceus desperately wanted to bury Fjord in a hug, but he was not sure that Fjord wanted to be touched right now. “It was very well concealed,” he reassured.

“I suspected she was lying to me,” Fjord said as he shook his head. “But I never would have found this without you.” He looked up at Caduceus, his eyes shining, his expression raw even though he smiled when he said, “Thank you.” 

“Ah, give yourself a little credit.” Caduceus hoped Fjord wouldn’t see the flush across his cheeks. “You’re clever. But I’m happy to help.” He averted his gaze to the compartment, where a flicker of light caught his eye: a silver key. 

Caduceus carefully plucked the key and folded it into his palm, letting his skin warm the cool metal. 

Fjord replaced the floorboard and moved the desk back to its original position. He stood and held his sealskin close for a moment; his heart hammered in his chest and his head swam as a lifetime of grief and longing flooded through him. 

“We should go,” he said, his voice thick.

“Is there anything else you need?” Caduceus asked. He opened his hand to show Fjord the key. “Do you recognize this?” 

Fjord blinked at the key, still dizzy, still unsure if he could trust every second that passed with his sealskin in his hands. Safe. Finally. _Finally._

“Yeah, actually. May I?” 

Caduceus surrendered the key. Fjord stepped around the desk and tried the key in the top drawer, which opened with a smooth click. Caduceus watched Fjord rifle through the drawer, his sealskin draped over his shoulder. Fjord pulled out a notebook and flipped through a few pages, scanning Avantika’s familiar handwriting for anything useful. He stopped when he saw his name, then closed his eyes and sighed. 

“...Fjord?” 

Fjord snapped the notebook closed. “Fine,” he said. He shoved the drawer shut, locked it, and pocketed the key before coming to join Caduceus again. “It’s fine. I just.” Fjord held up the book. “I knew she was using me. This confirms it. I’m sure there’s more.” 

Caduceus nodded. He appraised Fjord, his past in one hand, his future in the other, on the threshold of getting what he’d wanted his whole life. He looked determined. Caduceus was honored to be allowed to share this moment, so he smothered the nagging sense of fear and loss. 

Fjord tucked the notebook into his armor. He tried wrapping and folding his sealskin into a less conspicuous form, but faltered when he realized there would be no hiding what it was.

“Here.” Caduceus opened his bag. Fjord hesitated for a moment, then nodded. He held his breath as he lowered his sealskin into Caduceus’ pack. Caduceus fastened the leather strap that kept the bag closed extra carefully, aware of Fjord’s anxious gaze following his movements. 

“Okay,” Caduceus said when he was sure the pack was secure. “When you’re ready.” 

None of the short journey from Avantika’s quarters to the dock felt real. Fjord crossed the ship without seeing any of it, terrified that if he stopped he would lose everything all over again. Caduceus followed close behind him, keeping one hand protectively on the bag. 

Vera and a group of crew members wandered toward them as Fjord and Caduceus disembarked. Fjord slowed his stride, putting himself between Caduceus and Vera as the two groups met. 

“Good interview?” Vera asked, tilting her head to see Caduceus around Fjord’s shoulder. 

“We’ll see what the captain thinks,” Fjord replied, doing his best to keep his voice even. Vera hummed. She rested her hand loosely on the hilt of her cutlass as she addressed Caduceus. 

“That’s probably not necessary. This crew doesn’t take kindly to thieves.”

Caduceus let the accusation hang between them. 

“What are you talking about?” Fjord argued. “I was with him the whole time, he didn’t take anything.” 

“Then your eyes are failing,” Vera snapped. She drew her cutlass and gestured to Caduceus. “Why don't you show us what's in the bag?” 

“Vera,” Fjord warned. “Leave it.” 

Vera’s lips curled into a snarl. Her fellows flanked her, though they glanced uneasily between Vera and Fjord and kept their weapons sheathed. 

“I knew you would betray her,” Vera said. “I just thought you would have the guts to do it to her face.”

Fjord held up his hands. “The only one being betrayed here is you and this crew.” He looked at the men flanking Vera—men he’d fought and sailed alongside for a year, men he’d seen sunburnt and waterlogged and bloody. They looked back at him, wary. 

“You know she doesn’t actually care about any of you,” Fjord continued. “You know she’d sacrifice you without a second thought if it meant getting closer to her goal.” 

“Shut up,” Vera snarled. “You don’t know anything.” 

Fjord ignored her. “You know I’m right,” he implored his crewmates. “You’d be better off if you left now. There are plenty of other ships, plenty of other captains—better captains, captains who won’t feed you to a fuckin’ deep sea monstrosity just so they can become more power-”

Vera lunged at Caduceus. Fjord threw his shoulder into her, diverting her blade, but Caduceus instinctually stumbled back. His foot hit open air and he fell sideways, unbalanced and unlucky. His head collided with the nearest pillar, sending a shock of pain through his body. It was the last thing he felt before darkness swallowed him. 

The water was cold. Just cold enough to keep Caduceus conscious. Salt burned his eyes and rushed up his nose. The weight of his armor dragged him down faster than he could coordinate his limbs to swim. His body tried to breathe, but there was only water. 

Hands grabbed Caduceus’ tunic, snatching him from the hungry depths. Caduceus had enough presence of mind to scrabble for purchase on the dock when Fjord boosted him up. Someone else pulled him the rest of the way to safety. 

“On his side, come on,” Fjord ordered whatever party was assisting. Caduceus felt warm wood under his cheek. He sucked in a breath, then coughed up seawater. He recognized the scrape of Fjord’s claws when Fjord firmly patted his back, encouraging his body to expel the rest of the water he’d inhaled. Caduceus felt for the strap of the bag around his chest.

Nothing. 

Caduceus pushed himself onto his elbows and twisted to face Fjord, who tried to press him back down. 

“Easy, just breathe, you’re blee-” 

Caduceus shoved Fjord toward the water as hard as he could. “Bag,” he croaked. 

Fjord paled. He dove off of the dock again, earning confused mutters from the small group that had gathered around the scene. Caduceus groaned and rubbed at his stinging eyes. The hands that had assisted him awkwardly tried to stop him but Caduceus batted them away. He spit up another mouthful of water and started to count the seconds. 

Fjord was gone for a long time. 

Caduceus was able to sit up after a few minutes, though his breathing was ragged and his head throbbed like all the pressure in the world was building inside his skull. Blood dripped down his brow and obscured his vision in one eye, but he didn’t take his gaze off the water. 

Minutes passed. Fjord did not surface. 

The crowd around them swelled. People elbowed each other, trying to get a better look at the scene, but the Squalleater crew kept them back with gruff shouts and readied blades. Vera stood at the edge of the dock, her eyes wide.

“Fuck,” she muttered when too many minutes passed and Fjord had not returned. She started striping out of her armor, hissing a string of curses as she went. She cast a final glare at Caduceus, then readied herself to dive. 

Fjord surfaced with a gasp. 

Vera startled. Fjord lifted himself back onto the dock, where he crouched on his hands and knees beside Caduceus, breathing heavily and coughing. Caduceus’ bag was draped over his shoulder. 

“What the fuck are you playing at?” Fjord snarled as he got to his feet, still dripping seawater. Vera blinked at him, stunned, until she remembered herself and brandished her sword. 

“You should go,” she said. 

The falchion appeared in Fjord’s hand almost without him asking. He took a heavy step toward Vera. 

“Everything she’s ever told you is a lie,” he panted. “Every storm we sailed into, every shitty port we risked our lives in, every deserted island we almost died on has all been for _nothing._ Why are you still loyal to her?”

“You’re the liar!” Vera shot back. She held her blade steady, undaunted by Fjord’s advance. “You’ve lied since we met you. I don’t know how, but you convinced her you were chosen and you’ve been slowing us down ever since. I don’t know who or what you’re allied with, really, but you’ve been nothing but a burden. You have no faith. You have no power. It’s time for you to leave.” 

Fjord bristled, but then he noticed the crowd, humming with the mention of guards, and he saw Caduceus, soaked and bloody and dazed, sitting on the dock like a wounded bird, cradling his bag in his lap. 

Fjord banished the falchion. “Fine,” he muttered. He draped Caduceus' arm over his shoulder and helped Caduceus to his feet. 

“Let's get you to a healer, sir,” Fjord said, loud enough for everyone to hear. Caduceus leaned into him as they shuffled away. 

They ducked into an alley as soon as they were clear of the docks. Caduceus dropped his disguise with a trembling wave of his hand. Fjord guided Caduceus to sit on a crate and knelt in front of him, checking him for wounds beyond the gash on his temple. 

“Fuck, Cad, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s alright,” Caduceus said. He was rattled, but his breathing steadied as Fjord examined him. “I can heal it.” 

Caduceus pressed his palm over his injury and channeled healing into the battered corner of his skull. He sat for a few moments once the magic faded, gathering his breath. He accepted Fjord’s help when he stood, but he was still woozy. 

“Whoa.” Fjord caught Caduceus as he slumped against him. “Are you sure you don’t need another healer?” 

“M’sure,” Caduceus hummed. “I just need to...sleep the rest of this off. Do you mind? I mean, are you going to leave now?” 

Fjord frowned. “Of course not. Let’s get you back to the inn.”

Fjord helped Caduceus to his room and out of his armor. He turned his back when Caduceus changed into dry clothes, then hung Caduceus’ wet things on a line outside the window. He pulled the shades shut, granting as much darkness as was possible at midday, while Caduceus settled into bed. 

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Fjord asked. “I thought you weren’t supposed to sleep on head injuries.” 

“It’s a healed head injury,” Caduceus reminded through a yawn. “I’ll be fine.” 

Fjord nodded slowly. “I’m going to go call in a favor and get you on a boat out of here by morning. It’s too dangerous for you to be around when Avantika gets back. Even if you didn’t look like yourself today, she’ll know you helped me.”

“Okay,” Caduceus mumbled into his pillow. 

Fjord moved as if to come closer, but then stopped himself. He cleared his throat and fiddled with the strap of Caduceus’ bag, still slung across his chest. “If you don’t mind watching over the—uh, my…” 

Caduceus extended his arm, beckoning. Fjord smiled. He took his sealskin out of the bag—it was perfectly dry despite the other contents being soaked— and handed it to Caduceus, who tucked it safely under the covers and curled his arm around it. 

“I’ll protect it with my life,” Caduceus promised as he closed his eyes. He was just awake enough to hear Fjord chuckle breathily and murmur, “Well, don’t do that.” 

~*~

Fjord returned to the inn on the heels of a ruddy sunset. Caduceus was awake and felt mostly like himself aside from a lingering ache in his temple, but he didn’t argue when Fjord offered to bring dinner up to eat in the comfort of the room. 

They shared one last meal perched opposite each other on Caduceus’ bed. Fjord explained that he’d tracked down a tiefling girl named Jester who had once helped him kill a giant serpent for Rinaldo. She’d joined an adventuring party since he last saw her and they were fortuitously planning on setting sail in the morning. 

“Jester’s...enthusiastic, but she's a helluva fighter, and a cleric as well,” Fjord said. “I only met the rest of the group briefly. They seem nice enough. You don’t have to stay with them, but they’ll at least get you somewhere safe.” 

Caduceus nodded. He certainly didn’t have any better ideas. “What about you?” 

Fjord sighed. “I read through some more of Avantika’s journal. She thinks the last orb is in the wreckage of Vandran’s ship. That’s part of why she’s kept me around; she wants me to take her to where it sank.” 

Caduceus frowned. “Do you know where that is?” 

“Kind of. I’ve told her the general area we were in, but I think I can get there better as...uh, with the…” He gestured to the sealskin still folded under the blankets. 

“Why does she think the third crystal is there?” 

“Apparently Vandran had a connection to it too. He actually had the sword before I did, I think. He never said anything about it, but I’ve had dreams...I think she’s right, which means I have to beat her to it and then either destroy it or hide it somewhere she’d never be able to find it. I don’t imagine that’ll make Uk’otoa too happy, so I’ll have to figure out what to do about that too.” 

“That’s a lot.” 

“Could be worse.” Fjord reached across the space between them and took his sealskin back. Caduceus watched him rub the material between his thumb and forefinger. It looked big enough to cover Fjord; Caduceus briefly wondered if it had been that large when he shed it as a child, or if it had been growing with him even while it was lost. 

“You’re nervous,” Caduceus said to break the silence.

Fjord huffed and grinned, lopsided. “Yeah. It’s just been so long...my whole life, basically. I don’t actually know anything about selkies, not really. I don’t know how to be one. What if I can’t change?...What if it’s too late? ” 

Caduceus’ expression softened. “This is you, Fjord. It’s who you are; it wouldn’t forget you.”

Fjord let Caduceus' words settle into him, then nodded. He took a steadying breath. “I really can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done. Nobody’s ever stuck by me like this.” 

Caduceus didn’t know what to say. Well. He knew what he wanted to say, but he didn’t think those were the right words, so he cast for something else, tried to pull pieces of truth out without revealing his whole heart. 

“I’m glad I met you,” he said slowly. “I came here looking for a sign and I think you’ve given me a few, even if I haven’t quite figured out what they mean yet.”

Fjord looked up. “Oh? Like what?” 

Caduceus thought about sailboats and shooting stars and juniper berries and the scars on Fjord’s shoulders; about pitch pine and osprey feathers and how starfish walk on the seafloor. He was aware that moments had passed and Fjord was staring at him. He willed words to come but they wouldn’t. He couldn’t transmute what Fjord had given him into speech. 

Fjord blinked. He seemed to understand. Caduceus wasn’t sure if the pounding in his ears as Fjord closed the space between them was the ocean or his own heart, but Fjord’s hand was an anchor when he cupped Caduceus’ face. 

“Is this—can I?” Fjord whispered before Caduceus pulled him the last few inches into a kiss. 

It wasn’t the first time Caduceus had kissed someone, but this was different. His usual calm vanished under Fjord's mouth; he felt like he was being unspooled as the full force of his feelings crashed over him. But was good, too. It felt _right_ in a way that simultaneously warmed Caduceus to the core and sent fear lancing through him. 

Fjord made a soft, content sound when they broke apart. They were both flushed. Caduceus looked down. 

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want to make this harder for you.” 

“Sorry?” Fjord laughed a little, butted his forehead against Caduceus’, then pulled away and took Caduceus’ hand in his—a mimic of their moment on Rinaldo’s boat. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” he assured, but he looked sad too. “I wish I could promise something. I just don’t know how this is going to go. I have to make sure Avantika can’t let Uk’otoa free and that could take...time.” 

“Or you could die,” Caduceus said, because Fjord wouldn’t. 

“I’ll do my best not to.” 

“To be fair, I could die too.” 

Fjord chuckled, a little unnerved. “I guess that’s true.” 

“It’s okay,” Caduceus assured. “If this is the last time I see you, I understand.” 

Fjord nodded slowly. “I sincerely hope that isn’t the case,” he said, squeezing Caduceus’ hand. “I’d like to find you again once this is all over. If that’s okay?” 

“I would like that very much.” 

Fjord smiled. “Well...I think my best chance for changing back is to try at high tide, which isn’t for a few hours, so, if you wanted...” He trailed off into a soft laugh when Caduceus kissed him again and lay back, pulling Fjord with him so that they could pretend, at least for a little while, that this was a beginning. 

~*~

The full moon painted everything blue. The sand was cold under Caduceus’ feet and a curious breeze stirred the sea oats on the dunes. Fjord stood beside him in just his tunic and pants. He’d left everything but his sealskin behind for Caduceus to either keep until Fjord returned or sell when he got tired of carrying it. (Caduceus had no intention of selling anything.) 

“So do you just...walk into the sea?” Caduceus asked, hugging his arms against the chill. 

“I guess?” Fjord shifted the sealskin in his arms. “Most songs about it don’t get too specific but this feels...right.” 

Fjord paused, watching the dark waves shifting before him. Caduceus could sense Fjord’s anxiety like an approaching storm. 

“I’m right here if anything goes wrong,” Caduceus said. 

Fjord smiled. “I know.” He turned into Caduceus for one more embrace; Caduceus curled around him, holding him tight. When Fjord pulled away, Caduceus kissed his forehead, muttering the incantation for Bless against his hairline. 

“Just in case,” he explained when Fjord looked at him quizzically. Fjord chuckled. He stripped off his tunic and handed it to Caduceus. 

“Thank you again, for everything. Take care of yourself, Mr. Clay.” 

“You too, Fjord with a J.” 

Fjord smiled one more time, then he turned, draped his sealskin over his shoulders like a cloak, and waded into the cold water. He could feel the weight of the full moon stirring the tide. The waves sang to him, the current pulled at him, urging him deeper, deeper. It sounded like heartsong. It sounded like home. 

Fjord took a deep breath, filling his lungs with silver, and then he dove into the surf. 

Caduceus held his breath. He could see a faint glow of magic where Fjord submerged, but it faded quickly. The sea was dark again. Caduceus held tight to his staff and counted his heartbeats. 

A dark head appeared between the whitecaps. A seal turned to look at Caduceus, its gold eyes shining in the moonlight. Caduceus let out a whoop of relief, and joy, and something a little sadder. 

The seal watched him, bobbing with the push and pull of the sea as it grew accustomed to a body it hadn’t known in decades. When the seal was ready, it splashed in farewell and twisted into the shadows, disappearing as quickly as it had come. 

Caduceus stood alone on the shore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's uhhh 22k words leading up to a kiss? Give or take some. I hope it was worth it! Thanks for making it this far! Final chapter should be up by/on Sunday. 
> 
> Next up: An epilogue and a reunion


	12. Epilogue

Caduceus walked slowly along a dark beach, keeping one eye on the stars to track his progress. The sea yawned at his shoulder, its inky depths still imposing although Caduceus had grown used to its shifting darkness. His full moon walks had become routine any time the Mighty Nein found themselves close to the sea; Caduceus spent the brightest nights skirting the edge of the tide and straining to see gold in the shadows.

He scanned the mild waves, but he didn’t let himself hope too dearly. He’d asked the Wildmother to keep her blessings with Fjord, wherever he was, but if she had granted his wish she had not felt inclined to tell him. 

None of the ports Caduceus and the Mighty Nein stopped in had reported ancient serpent gods rising from the deep, and they had not encountered Avantika or any of her crew since leaving Nicodranas, so Caduceus was choosing to believe that meant everything was going as well as it could. 

And things were going well. Considering. He had found a place among his new friends, offering what comfort he could as he tried to earn their trust while they grieved the loss of one of their own. He still wasn’t sure if he’d made the right choice in leaving home, and he had made only small steps toward finding his family, but he couldn’t imagine going back now. He didn’t want to be alone again. 

Something splashed in the moon’s reflection. Caduceus paused. The waves flickered. A seal head poked above the water, its gold eyes glinting in the moonlight. 

Caduceus watched with his heart in his throat as the seal ducked under the waves again. A blue glow illuminated the whitecaps before a familiar figure emerged from the darkness that followed. 

Caduceus waited for Fjord at the edge of the icy winter surf. He was grinning by the time Fjord approached, his sealskin wrapped modestly around his hips, also smiling despite the cold and the wind. 

“Hi,” Fjord greeted, his voice low and rough from disuse. He was a little bulkier than Caduceus had left him; his hair was longer, he’d grown a short beard, and the faintest nub of tusks poked over his lower lip. 

“Hello, Mr. Fjord,” Caduceus replied, fond, relieved. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

Fjord’s gaze was soft. Steam rose off of him, though he didn’t seem to feel the cold of the waves that still lapped at his ankles. He took another step forward on to proper dry land, close enough to touch, but Caduceus wasn’t sure if he could—if he should.

“Yeah,” Fjord said. He cleared his throat. “I think I did.” 

Caduceus nodded. He noticed new scars on Fjord’s chest and frowned, reaching out instinctively. Fjord didn’t move away. 

“How bad were these wounds?”

Fjord shrugged. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. Healing actually seems easier when I’m, uh, as a…” He trailed off when a gust of wind howled over the dunes and sent a shock of cold through him.

Caduceus draped his coat over Fjord. “Do you want to come back to the inn?” he asked. “The food’s decent and even the tea isn't too bad.” 

“I, uh, hunted on the way here,” Fjord said through a shiver. He tugged Caduceus’ coat close around his shoulders. “But I could sleep for a week, if you don’t mind.” 

They crept through the back entrance of the weathered inn and up the creaking staircase. Caduceus was grateful he’d taken a room to himself. He watched the doors to Caleb and Nott’s and Jester and Beau’s rooms carefully as they passed, but nothing stirred. 

Fjord was still shivering when Caduceus shut them safely in his room. Exhaustion settled into Fjord as the adrenaline from his transformation wore off. He rubbed his hand across his face, marveling at how different it felt from how he remembered. He hadn't realized this form could change when he wasn't using it—there was a troubling edge to that thought, but Fjord was too tired to place it. He was slow to react when Caduceus handed him a pair of sleeping clothes and encouraged him toward the bed. He finally caught up as Caduceus unpacked his bedroll and began setting himself a place to sleep. 

“Oh, you don’t have to,” Fjord protested. Caduceus looked up at him. “I mean, floor’s hard. It’s your room, you…” Fjord trailed off, shuffling clumsily away from the bed. 

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” Caduceus assured. He stood just in time to catch Fjord when he stumbled over an uneven floorboard. 

“I don’t remember feet being this difficult,” Fjord muttered once he regained his balance. Caduceus hummed. 

“You’ll sleep better on the bed,” he said, only releasing Fjord when he was sure Fjord was steady. 

Fjord looked down at the clothes in his hands. “We could always...I mean, I’m not opposed to sharing. If you don’t mind.” 

“Oh.” Caduceus blinked. “No. I mean, I don’t mind. Yes. If you’re not opposed.”

“Nope,” Fjord repeated with a small, lopsided grin. 

Once he had changed, Fjord settled onto the cot and turned his back to the wall, watching sleepily as Caduceus lay down beside him. The size of the bed left little space between them. 

“Okay?” Caduceus asked in a whisper once he’d pulled the covers over them. He could smell the salt and the cold that clung to Fjord. 

Fjord nodded. His hands were restless. He shoved them under the pillow to hide it. “Do you mind if I...uh. You’re just, warm, and-” 

Caduceus opened his arms, welcoming Fjord into a gentle embrace. Fjord sighed. His shivering muscles relaxed as he fit his head under Caduceus’ chin and Caduceus curled around him. 

“Still okay?” Fjord asked, his breath ghosting over Caduceus’ collarbone. 

Caduceus closed his eyes and held Fjord a little closer, hoping Fjord couldn’t hear how quickly his heart was beating. “Yes. Very.” 

Fjord chuckled. 

Falling asleep was heartbreakingly easy. 

~*~

The quiet of early morning was shattered by song. 

“Caduceeeeussssss,” Jester trilled as she burst into the room, “it’s morninggggg, it’s time to wake uppppp sleepy he-”

Fjord startled upright. Caduceus, his back to the door, muttered a question but wasn’t inspired to move. Jester and Fjord stared at each other, both stunned into silence. 

“Oh,” Jester squeaked. “Fjord? Um, I mean, sorry!” She giggled as she shut the door. “We’re having breakfast when you’re ready!” she called over her shoulder. 

“What’s going on?” Beau grumbled, half awake, as she joined Jester in the hallway. 

“Oh, nothing.” Jester grinned and pulled Beau downstairs. 

“Sorry about that,” Caduceus said through a yawn. “They’re not great at boundaries.” 

Fjord didn’t reply, so Caduceus opened his eyes to look up at him. He looked very good; the hair suited him, even sleep-rumpled. He also looked anxious. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Fjord said, but he was frowning. “I didn’t realize you were still traveling with them.” 

“They’re good company,” Caduceus replied. He watched Fjord start picking at his tusk. “Fjord.” 

Fjord realized what he was doing and dropped his hand, curling it into a fist at his side. “Sorry,” he sighed. “I just, uh, I maybe didn’t think this through as well as I should have.” 

Caduceus reached up, gentle, undemanding, and applied the faintest pressure to Fjord’s arm, encouraging him back into the halo of Caduceus' embrace. Fjord went uncertainly, but he pressed a brief kiss to Caduceus’ shoulder once he was there. 

“Did you find the orb?” Caduceus asked as he brushed Fjord’s hair away from his eyes. Fjord leaned into the touch, embarrassingly eager, even more grateful that Caduceus wouldn't call him on it. 

“Yeah. I tried to destroy it but I couldn’t, so I carried it as far as I could, to this deep sea trench, and dropped it there. It felt like a good idea at the time, but Avantika is still out there and I think with enough magic she could still find it.” 

“She can’t do anything without the third one, right?” 

Fjord hummed. “She can’t release Uk’otoa. She could get more powerful with the second one, I think.” 

“And the last is still...inside of you?” 

Fjord chuckled nervously. “Yeah. I had a dream once where I pushed it into my...chest? Stomach?” He tapped the center of his abdomen. “It doesn’t really feel like anything is there though.” 

Caduceus propped himself up on his elbow. “Do you mind if I try some magic? I might be able to sense it.” 

“Uh, sure.” Fjord rolled onto his back, giving Caduceus access to his chest. Caduceus sat up, offered Fjord a reassuring smile, and spread his palm gently over the place Fjord indicated. 

“It might feel odd, but I’m just going to see if I find anything unusual.” 

Fjord nodded, closed his eyes again, and smiled faintly when Caduceus twined his free hand with Fjord’s. 

Caduceus pushed his magic into Fjord, letting the warmth of it soak into Fjord’s ribs and spread through the plane of his chest. He didn’t sense the orb, exactly, but there was a place in the center of Fjord that felt unnatural, hard, unsettled. He retreated when he felt Fjord grip his hand. 

“Are you okay?” Caduceus asked, blinking magic from his eyes. Fjord’s breathing had picked up but he nodded. Caduceus took in the sight of him: hair mussed, pupils dilated, watching Caduceus with both trust and trepidation. It wasn’t the right moment to kiss him, so Caduceus didn’t, but want rolled in his gut. 

“There is something,” Caduceus confirmed. “But it’s not exactly physical, I don't think.” 

Fjord sighed. “I don’t know if I can break the connection with the orb in me, and I have no idea how to get it out. I don’t even know how much control Uk’otoa really has over me—if it’s limited to bad dreams or if it just hasn’t shown off yet.” 

Caduceus remembered Fjord choking on seawater and frowned. He drew his fingers down Fjord’s arm. “If you wanted to stick around, Caleb knows a lot about magic, and what he doesn’t know he can be very determined about figuring out.” 

Fjord watched the progression of Cad’s fingers. “Do you think they’d have me?” 

“Of course,” Caduceus took Fjord’s hand and pressed circles into his palm. “I’ll vouch for you, and so will Jester.” He met Fjord’s gaze again and smiled to try and soothe the worry he found there. “You don’t have to stay longer than you want to. We have one member already who comes and goes as she pleases.” 

Fjord considered that. “I don’t want to be a burden,” he countered. “If it seems like y’all are going to be in too much danger with me around I’ll figure something else out.” 

It made Caduceus ache to hear him say it, but he didn’t push. He leaned down to kiss Fjord’s forehead. 

“This group gets into plenty of trouble on their own. You’ll fit in nicely. If something changes, we can all help you figure it out.” 

Fjord stopped Caduceus when he started to pull away, stilling him with a hand on his waist. His touch sent a pleasant shiver down Caduceus’ spine.

“I want to...talk about...this,” Fjord said quietly, not quite able to meet Caduceus' eyes. “If there’s still, uh, this, I mean. I’ve thought about you, ah, a lot, but I...I’m just not sure what it...means, exactly? So much has changed. I feel like I don’t really know who I am any more—if I even knew in the first place—and I don’t want to hurt you because I’m stuck in my head, but I also don’t want to miss a chance at…” He exhaled, shaky, and rested his hand back on his own stomach. “Sorry if that’s—I mean, obviously if I’m way off track here then, uh, if we could forget I said any of this that would be great, and in the future I won’t-” 

Caduceus placed a gentle hand on Fjord's cheek. “I missed you too.”

Fjord swallowed. “Cool.”

“The way I feel about you is also...new to me,” Caduceus continued. “I care for you very much, but the shape of that isn’t set in stone. I would not mind going slowly and seeing where fate takes us. If nothing else, I would like to be your friend, as long as you’ll have me.” 

“Yeah,” Fjord breathed, nodding through the hopeful tension in his chest. “Yeah. That sounds good.” 

“Good.” Caduceus smiled. 

“So.” Fjord cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose ‘slow’ would include occasional kissing?”

“If you want.” 

“Do you want?” 

“Yes,” Caduceus said simply. He went willingly when Fjord tugged him close and kissed him. It was soft and easy and a little fragile; both of them afraid to break whatever it was they'd found. 

They were interrupted by Fjord’s stomach growling. Fjord groaned; Caduceus chuckled and sat up. 

“We should go eat.” 

Fjord rolled onto his front when Caduceus got out of bed and watched him dig a neat bundle of clothes out from the bottom of his pack. He sat up when he recognized they were the garments he’d left with Caduceus months ago. 

“Jester has your armor in her bag of holding,” Caduceus said as he handed Fjord the clothes. “I can keep your, uh, coat in my pack for now if you want.” 

“Thank you.” Fjord ran his hand over the familiar fabric, overwhelmed by a seemingly simple gesture. Caduceus turned his back to let Fjord change in relative privacy. 

The entire Mighty Nein stared at them as they descended into the dining room. 

Jester lit up. “It is you, Fjord! I almost didn’t recognize you with the beard. I didn’t know you were in town.” 

Fjord touched his face self-consciously. “Uh, yeah, well, I got in late last night. Caduceus was, um, kind enough to share his lodgings.”

“It’s always good to catch up with an old friend,” Caduceus replied mildly. He sat down in front of a mug of tea someone had thoughtfully ordered for him and gestured to the party. 

“Fjord, this is Caleb, Nott the Brave, and Beau. You know Jester. Yasha is here sometimes but is currently off doing...whatever it is she does.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet y’all,” Fjord said. 

“Where’d you come in from in the middle of the night?” Beau asked, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back in her chair.

“One of the islands,” Fjord said with a shrug. “I just finished up a job.” 

“What kind of work do you do?” Caleb asked. He nudged his share of bacon toward Nott to placate her as she squinted suspiciously at Fjord. 

“I’ve been a sailor most of my life, but I know some fighting and a little magic,” Fjord said.

“More than ‘some’ and ‘a little,’” Caduceus corrected gently. 

Fjord rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks. Um, Caduceus actually mentioned that y’all...well, that I might be able to stick around for a little bit? I don’t want to impose, but if you’re hiring-” 

“Oh yes! Fjord you should definitely come with us!” Jester squealed. “That would be so fun.” She braced her hand on Beau’s shoulder, which made Beau grunt and turn to look at her. 

“I’ve seen Fjord use magic; it’s preeetty cool,” Jester gushed. “And this way if we have to get on a boat again we’ll have someone who knows about sailing!” 

Beau lolled her head to look at Caleb. 

Caleb blinked. “That’s two glowing endorsements,” he said. He tilted his head at Fjord. “Is there anywhere in particular you need to go?” 

“Or not go,” Beau added. 

Fjord shook his head. “I’m happy to tag along wherever. I might have to, uh, make my way to a shoreline every now and then, but the group certainly wouldn’t have to follow. ” 

“Well then, Fjord,” Caleb said, his gaze drifting between Fjord and Caduceus, who hid his smile behind his mug, “welcome to the Mighty Nein.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go, the whole gang together in the end!
> 
> Many thanks if you made it this far. This was a lot of fun to develop and write so I hope you enjoyed it even a fraction as much as I have. 
> 
> I have a few short scenes and maybe some one-shots in progress set in this world, so there may be more seal shenanigans in the future!


	13. Playlist/Extras

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I, uh, got Invested.
> 
> I'm @Mock1ngBirds on Twitter and will almost definitely be posting some doodles and such set in this universe if anyone wants to keep up with it :)  
> I hope you all stay safe and well out there.


End file.
